


Do Not Go Gentle - Book 2 Another Time Another Place

by auburnimp, zheyrryhn



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Mild S&M, Multi, Multiple Partners, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-02-07
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:21:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 91,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auburnimp/pseuds/auburnimp, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zheyrryhn/pseuds/zheyrryhn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To escape a Rosenkreuz team they cannot deal with Schwarz with Weiss and Aya's sister travel back to the old west.  Chaos and mayhem ensue, not least in their personal relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Time Warp

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Aya wasn’t at all sure that this was going to work. He understood the theory and what he needed to do but two things bothered him. Firstly there was Yohji. Would his psychic strength be enough, would it burn him out and how much rest, in possibly hostile surroundings would he need when they had done this? 

Secondly there was the problem of navigation. How did he make sure they went back at least to the thirties? What if they landed in the middle of a battlefield or something? And if the when was bad, Schuldig had told him he had no control over the where. To Aya the whole thing felt like throwing a needle into a haystack and using a child’s magnet to find it. 

Crawford and the others arrived in the room, Ken, Zeshin and Farfarello carrying most of their baggage-- what there was of it-- along with the food they'd brought from the hotel. 

"Are we ready then?" Crawford asked, as he stepped into the room. His gaze was alight, until he caught site of the pair of Weiss. 

Aya seemed apprehensive and unsure of himself. Yohji looked pale and was sitting on the floor smoking a cigarette and staring into space. He already seemed tired, and what they were asking of him could very well kill him. 

The way they looked wasn't promising. Not in the least. 

*Are you sure they're...* the question died as he felt a cold prickle of impending danger slide along his spine like the hand of death come for them. He opened his mouth to warn the rest of them. 

Yohji's head snapped up and the blond rose to his feet, the weariness dropping from him, jade eyes narrowing. "What the fuck...?" 

"Nightmare," Brad answered. "Schuldig, are they coming then, or are they playing their tricks from a distance?" 

“Coming? They’re here!” Schuldig’s voice told the others that the telepath was terrified. 

Aya’s head came up and he glanced around at the others. Their expressions ranged from worried to petrified and he quickly ran through what he had to do once more. “Okay,” he said, “join hands. I don’t want to lose any of you. Yohji, I want you next to me.” 

He waited while they formed a circle and joined hands. The luggage was dumped in the middle and should go wherever and whenever they did. _Here goes nothing._

A wave of sheer malevolence hit the house just then, giving Aya the final impetus that he needed. He concentrated and moved them. 

There was a swirl of colour and pattern and a feeling of total disorientation and then they were standing on solid ground once more. 

Gingerly, Aya opened his eyes. 

“Hey Slim, will yer take a look at that?” The speaker was a middle-aged drunk leaning against a wooden wall. Luckily ‘Slim’ was already comatose. 

Crawford turned his head to see who'd spoken. It had been English. American English to be exact. The motion caused a wave of disorientation to make their surroundings waver crazily in his vision. 

When he could see clearly once more Kudoh was down, motionless in the dirt. The man that had spoken was in dirty jeans, a filthy flannel shirt and had a beard that looked as if rats might be renting space. Blinking he realized the group of them were sandwiched between buildings. Wooden buildings. Dust blew down the unpaved alleyway and the sound of a not quite tuned piano poured out of the nearest doorway. 

"Where in the hell...?" 

Zeshin was looking around wide eyed, his hand gripping Aya-chan's tightly on one side and Kai's on the other. "Where are we?" he asked in Japanese. 

"Not a fucking clue," Farfarello replied as reached out to Schuldig and touched the German's face to make sure the telepath was all right. 

Personally he felt as if he'd been under the influence of about a gallon of thorazine, his body heavy and awkward feeling. 

"Kudoh doesn't look so hot," he commented as he watched Hidaka steady Nagi. 

Aya made an inarticulate sound and crouched down by Yohji. If he had got them here, wherever here might be, at the expense of the blond’s life…. 

He reached out and felt for the pulse in Yohji’s neck. It was there, beating steadily. Yohji was alive but completely drained. He glanced up at Crawford. “He needs a bed.” Then he looked around at all the others. “We all do.” 

"Farfarello, get Kudoh on his feet," Brad ordered. "Schuldig, find out where and when we are. I'm sure Mr Ratbeard isn't going to be able to deny you the information we want." 

Schuldig smirked and slid into Ratbeard’s mind with no difficulty at all. It didn’t take him long to find what he needed and he left with Ratbeard none the wiser that he’d ever been there. Schuldig put the drunk to sleep and erased any and all trace of them from the man’s memory. 

“We’re in Sacramento, California and the year is 1848,” he told Crawford. “There’s a respectable hotel called the Grand Union just round the corner.” 

The American stared. *You're sure?* he asked the telepath, somewhat incredulous that Aya could have not only carried them back one hundred and fifty seven years, but get them from Bangkok to America across thousands of miles of ocean. 

He glanced from the German to the young Japanese. *Amazing, Schuldig. His talent is even greater than I'd suspected.* 

*Kudoh probably pushed it, too, which is why he’s out for the count. Let’s face it, Terror meant business. Might have done us a favour by making Aya and Kudoh act rather than think about it. Once they’re used to their powers there’ll be no stopping either of them.* 

Schuldig leaned against Farfarello for a moment. *Oh, and yes, I’m sure.* 

*Well we'll have to make do as best we can then.* 

"All right, everyone listen carefully," he said in Japanese. "We've gone back a bit farther than planned. We'll be fine, but this is America during the California Gold Rush. Foreigners aren't always treated well, especially non-white ones," he said looking particularly at Weiss. "Yohji can probably pass as American, if he keeps his mouth shut. Right now, in his condition, we've got a reason for finding lodging. Money is also an issue." 

He glanced at Schuldig, *Mastermind, while I'm thinking about it, will you erase all recollection of our unconventional arrival from Mr. Ratbeard's mind? We're also going to be forced to rely on your ability to cloud people's minds until we're able to blend in and procure the correct currency.* 

*Ratbeard’s already dealt with, Vater. And if this is a gold rush, money shouldn’t be too hard to come by.* 

He crouched down by the unconscious drunks and, ignoring the smell, went through their pockets. He rose to his feet with fifteen dollars and forty-seven cents. *Not much by our time’s standards but it might get us some rooms.* 

"Well you can make it seem as if we've got more than we do. Now let's get moving. We all need rest we’ll have time to gather more information later. Schuldig, blur us to anyone and everyone that might be too curious about our appearance." 

He noted that Farfarello was holding Schuldig on his feet and moved to lift a totally limp Kudoh in a fireman's carry. 

"Let's go," he ordered. 

Zeshin grabbed as much of their bags and the food as he could, looking to Kai and even Aya-chan for a little help since Farfarello had a burden of his own already and Ken seemed too intent on Nagi's condition to notice much of anything else. 

Kai stepped forward to help Zeshin and Aya-chan also took her fair share of the baggage. Then they all trooped out of the alley after Crawford. 

Schuldig concentrated on making them invisible until they reached the Grand Union Hotel. Apparently rooms were ten dollars a night payable on leaving provided a two dollar reservation fee was paid in advance. That gave them enough for seven rooms if there were seven rooms free. 

He rang the bell and ordered the rooms, making the hotel owner see only some of them and those in the dress of the time. 

The man smiled at them, and told them that there were four rooms open. 

Brad frowned as he did a few quick calculations. Aya-chan couldn't be expected to share a room with any of them, except perhaps her own brother, which might take a little of the strain off of the relationship between he and Kudoh. 

But he didn't see how that would properly work either. 

"Aya-chan gets her own room. Weiss, you'll be sharing a room. Farfarello and Schuldig take another with Nagi and Ken. Try not to murder one another. I have the last room to myself," Crawford pronounced as he accepted the keys. 

"Naturally," Farfarello commented dryly as he steadied Schuldig. *You okay?* he asked his lover silently. 

*Just tired, Farf. Nothing that a few hours of uninterrupted sleep won’t cure.* Schuldig glanced over to where Aya was standing. *He did us proud.* 

*Yeah. He did, didn't he?* the Irishman agreed. *I think I'm starting to like him. But Kudoh had better keep his hands off of you. I don't care what Brad says. You belong to me.* 

*Yohji doesn’t want me, Farf. He’s not really happily gay, just bisexual with a preference for women. Just his tough luck that he fell for Aya. Oh and we’ve got past the pass. He made a dumb comment about my eyes is all. Then we had the little talk which is why I know all this crap.* 

Crawford frowned at the skeleton keys. "I don't think it's advisable for us to leave our things in these rooms unguarded. Not until we're a bit more certain of our security." 

He shifted Yohji's limp form over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. "Let's get going. I want a better look at Kudoh," he stated as he started up the steps. *Schuldig, make sure he remembers nothing odd about our appearance.* 

Aya was glaring at Brad‘s retreating back. “How come you don’t have to share?” he called after him. The idea of Zeshin and Yohji in the same room with him was not particularly appealing. Kai was fine. There were no…other issues with him. 

"Because I make the decisions and that is my decision," Crawford replied, his words clipped. "And you have some issues to deal with regarding your pet, this blond and what you're going to do about it. If anyone stays with me, it will be Kai, because it won't be pleasant for him to be caught between the three of you." 

He paused at the top of the stairs to look at Abyssinian, "Any further questions?" 

Apart from a death glare there was nothing further from the redhead. He simply sighed, grabbed Aya-chan’s bag and hurried her up the stairs. 

Brad passed out the keys, handing one to Aya-chan he said, "Don't leave your room and go wandering around without one of us. It isn't safe for a young woman in this town." 

When he passed a key to Ken he said, "Make sure Nagi sleeps." 

Then he carried Yohji down the hall and opened the door that would be the room the Weiss would share. He dropped the still rag-doll limp blond on the bed. 

"He needs to eat. Try and get him awake, and get some food into him," he told the silver-haired boy that had followed him into the room. He turned to Kai, "If their bickering gets on your nerves, you know where my room is. You can come and stay with me." 

Kai’s eyes widened at that. Apart from trying to kill Aya and Yohji that time in Hokkaido, Zeshin had never picked a fight with anyone to his knowledge. Then he thought about all the times he’d seen him kneel at Abyssinian’s feet and Yohji’s probable reaction to that. He swallowed. Hard. 

“Thank you,” he said with real gratitude. 

The tall American just nodded and Crawford pushed his glasses back up. He frowned. He'd have to be careful not to break them. He only had the one pair, and he wasn't sure how easily they could be replaced in the mid-1800s should something happen to them. 

Like the Rolex on his wrist, some things just weren't replaceable in this time period. 

His eyes glazed and he swayed slightly, images of fighting and blood filling his mind. "I want everyone to stay in their rooms for now. Rest. We can't afford complications until we're better established here." 

Dark eyes regarded Kai, "Stay armed at all times," he warned, "but only fight if you have no choice." 

Then he was gone from the room leaving Kai with an unconscious Yohji. 

Kai turned to Zeshin. “Crawford said he needs to be woken and fed,” he said. “Did you bring any of the food in here?” 

Zeshin nodded, as he dug into a hastily crammed plastic grocery bag. "There's ramen, but no water and no way to heat it. And some of these chocolate and peanut energy bar things," he offered one of them to Kai. "And some juice." 

“We’d better go with the energy bars and the juice then,” he said. Now, how best to wake Yohji? 

Aya strode into the room then and, after a quick, approving glance at the food choice, crossed to the bed where Yohji lay. He sat down on the bed and raised Yohji into a sitting position, using himself as a prop. 

“Yohji, wake up.” 

Zeshin backed out of the way, sitting in a corner on the floor giving the other two Weiss plenty of room to deal with the unconscious blond. 

There was no response from Yohji at all, no sign that he heard Aya's voice or felt how the man was holding him. 

“Give me the juice, Kai, let me see if I can get some of that down him at least,” Aya ordered. When Kai handed him the opened juice he placed it to Yohji’s lips, tipping the carton slightly to let it pour into Yohji’s mouth at a gentle trickle. 

Most of it ran out of the blond's slack lips, but Yohji finally swallowed, then choked a bit and started to cough. 

Aya removed the juice and thumped Yohji on the back, no sign of the worry he’d been feeling showing on his features. 

“One of you pass me one of those energy bars,” he said. 

Zeshin tossed it to Kai, but his gaze was on Aya as he tended to Yohji. 

"What the fuck... Aya are you trying to drown me or beat me to death?" the blond asked, voice as weak as he felt. 

His head came up, face still all but colourless as he took a look around. "Did we... make it?" he asked, curiosity breaking through the shroud of lethargy that lay heavy as lead around his body. 

“You were choking,” Aya said as if that explained everything, “and, yes, we all made it. We’re now in Sacramento right at the beginning of the California Gold Rush apparently. Now eat this and then get some rest.” 

Jade eyes regarded Aya, the blond taking the food from his lover. "I think I had some help with the choking. I hate the taste of pineapple juice," he muttered as he stared at the energy bar in Aya's hand. 

"Sacramento?" Yohji shook his head. "California Gold Rush? Want to give me a few more clues? My head's full of... fog. It's hard to think. Really hard." 

It was also evident that Yohji's physical condition was less than optimal when he couldn't manage to get his hands to work well enough to remove the packaging from the energy bar. 

Aya took the bar from him and unwrapped it before giving it back. “Eat that then get some sleep. You’ve exhausted yourself, you idiot.” 

And maybe if Yohji had simply let Aya take what he needed instead of forcing the energy into him they’d have gone back to one of the decades that Brad had suggested and still be in Japan. 

Yohji stared at the candy-like substance in his hand. "I'd rather have something real, but.." he sighed and took a bite, chewing and forcing it down. Despite the few swallows of the pineapple juice his mouth was dry. 

"Is there something besides pineapple juice to drink?" Even to him he sounded like he was whining and he sighed again. "Sorry. I just feel so... strange." 

Kai silently handed Aya a carton of orange juice who, in turn, held it to Yohji’s lips. “Orange,” he said shortly, “drink some of it.” 

Aya’s temper was beginning to get the better of him. He too needed something to eat and a good, long sleep but, as usual, Yohji was being a fucking prima donna. He hadn’t asked for all that energy, hadn’t needed it, yet Yohji in his usual high-handed way had given him no choice in the matter. 

Yohji swallowed automatically a few times then stopped. "You finish it." He took another bite of the energy bar, eyes wandering to the window that overlooked the street. 

He caught motion and then pushed Aya's hand away, "Isn't that Crawford going down the street?" 

Aya peered over Yohji’s shoulder. “Yes,” he said. Then he lost interest in Crawford as he swallowed some of the pineapple juice after handing the orange back to Kai. 

“You two eat and drink something also,” he said, “and then get some sleep.” 

He glanced round the room as if seeing it for the first time. One very large bed and a whole load of superfluous fixtures, fittings, dressers and bric-a-brac. Wonderful! Just fucking wonderful! 

“We’ll just have to share the bed.” 

"I don't mind the floor," the silver-haired boy said. Zeshin pulled another couple of the energy bars out of the bag. He offered one to Kai and tossed the other one to Aya. For himself he pulled out another pineapple juice and passed the bag to Kai. "There's a soda and two more juice bottles left." 

Yohji lay back on the bed and closed his eyes. "I feel like I've been awake for a month," he mumbled as he slid into sleep almost instantly. 

“Don’t be stupid, Zen,” Aya said, using the boy’s pet name for the first time. “There’s room on this monstrosity for all of us.” 

"That's okay, I don't mind the floor." Not that he'd mind sharing the bed with Aya, but he didn't want to crowd anyone. 

Aya unwrapped the energy bar, sniffed in distaste at the peanuts and rewrapped it. "Is there anything there without peanuts in it?" 

Zeshin shook his head, "Not in this bag. Should I go check with Ken? I think he's got the bag with the all chocolate ones." 

“No, leave it. I want to sleep more than eat.” 

Aya leaned back against the headboard, one hand idly toying with Yohji’s hair as he tried to summon the energy to take off his boots. 

Kai ate another of the energy bars and finished off the orange juice before pulling his own boots off and sliding onto the bed on the other side of Yohji. He wasn’t sure how Aya would react to him being so close to his lover, but the redhead didn’t react at all, just sat gazing into space. 

Zeshin got up and walked to the bed. He looked at Aya, and began to remove the older man's boots without being told to do so. "You can't sleep like that, and neither should he," Zeshin said of Yohji who was also fully dressed. 

Aya sighed slightly but did assist Zeshin in getting Yohji stripped down to his boxers. Then he did the same for himself before pulling the covers up and over the three men in the bed. 

Kai had already stripped to his underwear and merely mumbled a thank you as sheets and blankets settled over him. 

Aya made certain that both Yohji and Kai were sleeping normally before turning to gaze at Zeshin. 

“Get in the bed,” he said. “If it makes you feel better you can sleep next to Kai.” 

Zeshin stripped off his clothing and crawled in beside Aya, careful not to touch the older Weiss. There were soft grey patterns across his shoulders and down his back. Spots like those on a leopard that stood out plainly against his pale skin. 

But unlike the other pair he didn't fall asleep. The bed smelled odd, and he could hear Farfarello's voice through the wall, murmuring something to Schuldig in a language other than Japanese or English. 

Aya’s free hand, the one not toying with Yohji’s hair, reached out and traced the markings on the boy’s back and shoulders. 

“You should try to sleep too,” he said softly. 

"So should you," the boy replied just as quietly. 

“I’ll sleep when everyone else is resting,” Aya said, “and that includes the noisy pair next door.” 

He wasn’t sure when the members of Schwarz had come to mean so much to him but it had happened at some point and now he would remain vigilant until they were all asleep or until Crawford returned. Whichever was sooner. 

"I can stay awake," Zeshin told him. "Please, Fujimiya-san, rest. Crawford might need you when he comes back, and if you're tired he'll be angry." 

“I’m not bothered by his anger,” Aya said, “and I don’t think it will be long before everyone’s asleep. Not now that Kai is.” 

He lifted Zeshin’s chin to gaze into golden eyes before snaking his arm round the boy and pulling him close. His own exhaustion was catching up on him and he settled from a sitting to a lying position. 

“Happy now?” 

A soft rumbling sound was the only answer he got as Zeshin settled closer to the red-head, his fingers twitching reflexively in a cat's 'fluffing' motion. 

“I’ll take the purring as a yes, shall I?” 

The boy coughed softly, face colouring in embarrassment and the purring stopped, "Sorry, I... ah... Yes." 

A thought struck Aya then and he made a mental note to add something to Zeshin’s ‘reprogramming.’ It seemed to him that the boy was best off knowing he was half snow leopard. That way he might be able to use his cat skills to greater advantage. 

Zeshin lay in the bed, still and quiet, hearing the sounds out on the street. The odd music coming from somewhere not terribly far away, a peculiar clip clop that he imagined went with the neighing of horses. 

Horses. No cars. No trucks. 

It was noisy, but the noises were all as foreign to him as the country. 

"This is even worse than leaving Japan," he remarked softly. "Not only have we left everything we know and gone to another country, we're not even in our own time. We don't know how to fit in here at all." 

“We’ll have to learn,” Aya said, “and quickly. Luckily, if I understand Crawford correctly, we will only be here for the length of time it takes to properly train us all. Then we can go back to our own time and take on Rosenkreuz with a chance of winning.” 

At least he thought that was the plan. Trouble was, Crawford tended to play his cards close to his chest and didn’t tell any of them everything. Cards! Of course! 

Having a very shrewd suspicion of where Crawford was going, Aya relaxed slightly and curled himself between Yohji and Zeshin, almost purring himself. If Crawford was going to gamble, they would soon have enough money for their needs at least. 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford leaned back in his seat and considered. He could easily win this hand too, but he could also be a bit magnanimous since he'd done quite well tonight. True he'd won far more than he'd lost, but not to the point where anyone would think it more than a streak of luck. 

He puffed on the cigar, glanced at the men seated around the table. Miners, cowboys and a nicely dressed man who was supposed to be the card sharp at the table. 

The man was staring at him sourly. 

"Well gentlemen, I'm going to fold. Sadly, this hand is a wash and it's late." 

There was some grumbling, but no one was really sorry to see him pick up the small mound of gold nuggets that had accumulated along with a mix of coins and folding money. 

With the cigar still clenched between his teeth he made his way out of the saloon, forced to dodge only two of the professional girls who'd been eyeing his take at the table and hoping to get their claws into some of his winnings. 

He left them muttering and disappointed and headed back to the hotel. 

It was almost morning and he was dead tired, but very pleased. 

They had more than enough money to get everyone in the proper attire, and pay for their room and board. 

A hot meal sounded wonderful to him, and he was sure the others would welcome the same thing after eating cookies and energy bars. 

He reached the hotel and bounded up the stairs, heading for the Weiss room first. Crawford wanted a few words with Aya, minus everyone else. 

Rapping softly on the door he said, "Abyssinian? It's Crawford, open the door." 

Aya climbed out of the bed without disturbing Zeshin who was finally asleep, and pulling on his jeans as he went, crossed the room to open the door. 

“How much did you fleece them for?” he asked, a slight smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. 

"Enough to take care of our immediate needs," the American answered as he motioned the red-head into the hallway. 

He was trying to hide it, but he was bone deep tired. 

"I trust you can ride herd on the bunch well enough to take them shopping for clothing today? Schuldig knows my exact measurements and tastes well enough to order clothing for me. My clothing will have to be tailor made as I'm much taller than is typical in this time period. The same is true of Yohji so he will have to be measured and fitted." 

“Understood,” Aya said, serious once again. “Are you going to get some sleep now?” 

Why the hell did he care whether Crawford slept or not? It wasn’t like the prick mattered to him one way or the other. _Stop trying to fool yourself, Fujimiya. He tempted you and you’re interested enough to want to find out if he could follow through._

Crawford reached up to touch the man's cheek, "Yes, I'm going to get some sleep and if I'm lucky I might have a pleasant dream for a change." 

He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out most of the money he'd gained from the card game. 

"Order a breakfast to be sent to my room. Whatever they are serving will do, but if they have steak and eggs, I'll take that instead." 

He held up a gold nugget the size of the end of his thumb, "Be careful, people kill for this around here," he warned and put the gold into Aya's hand. 

"They also aren't very friendly to foreigners, so stay sharp and if anyone asks, tell them you work for Mr. Crawford." 

Aya stared at the gold for a moment or two before closing his fist over it and looking up. 

“Mr Crawford? Made a name for yourself here already have you?” He smiled ironically and shook his head. 

“Steak and eggs to be sent to your room and the rest of us to eat and buy clothes. I think I can manage that.” 

"I would hope so after all those missions for Kritiker," Crawford replied, his tone almost teasing. 

"Oh, yes, and while I'm thinking about it, there is a real shortage of women around here. Keep a watchful eye on your sister. She's young, pretty, in good health and would fetch a high price in any bordello or mail order bride house here in town." 

The last did not sit well with Aya and it showed in the way his hands clenched into fists. “You can be sure I will,” he almost snarled. If anyone even tried to touch his sister… 

He calmed down again, enough to say, “I’ll go and rouse the others. Your breakfast should be with you in no more than half an hour.” 

"Good." Brad's fingers found the Weiss' cheek, brushing across it in another caress, "When you get back, come to my room. We need to talk." 

Aya couldn’t think of anything they needed to talk about. He wasn’t prepared to leave Yohji while his lover still needed him and he had the feeling that Brad was going to push for more than he could give right now. He sighed and nodded his agreement. 

“Okay. But get some sleep first.” 

And there it was again. This protective urge towards Crawford. He shook his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go and sort out the others,” he said, then fled back into his room slamming the door behind him and leaning against it heavily. 

In the hallway Brad smirked at the sound of the slammed door and vanished into his room, humming a soft melody. 

The sound of the door banging shut brought Zeshin awake. He sat up and looked at Aya, curiosity shining in his gaze. He was too polite to ask what was wrong and why the older Weiss almost appeared... well panicked. 

Yohji mumbled something about not being on shift and rolled over with a contented sigh. 

“Crawford wants us to go out and get the right clothes,” Aya said. “Can you get Yohji and Kai moving while I wake the others please.” 

"Of course, Fujimiya-san," Zeshin replied respectfully giving a little bow of his head. 

As he spoke and looked at Zeshin he felt himself calm down. “We also need to eat something that isn’t energy bars. Crawford has given me the funds so let’s get moving shall we?” 

Zeshin nodded and nudged Yohji's shoulder, "Kudoh-san, wake up. We have to get going. Fujimiya-san says you have to get up." 

Yohji muttered, the words incomprehensible and Zeshin nudged him again getting a perfectly clear, "Go away," from the blond. 

Aya sighed. Yohji was obviously going to be difficult. “I’ll deal with him, you go and rouse the others instead. Oh, and could you ask my sister to join us please?” 

He crossed the room to the bed and gave Kai a gentle shake. “Time to get up. We’ve got things to do.” 

Zeshin pulled on some clothes and his boots and vanished out the door. The last thing he wanted to be present for was a fight between Aya and Yohji. 

Kai came awake instantly. “What? Oh yeah, sure Aya.” 

Aya eyed the still sleeping Yohji. “You might want to join the others when you’re dressed,” he suggested. 

Kai glanced from him to Yohji and dressed quickly, swiftly following Zeshin out of the room. 

Aya leaned over and shook Yohji. “Wake up, Yohji.” 

The blond's eyes opened to stare blearily at Aya, "What Aya, something wrong?" he asked, still half-asleep. 

“No, nothing’s wrong. Crawford wants us to get some proper food and appropriate clothing. He says you’re tall for this time period so will need to be measured. I imagine that both Schuldig and I might have the same problem.” 

Yohji just grunted softly and buried his face in the pillow, "Tired. Rather sleep," he mumbled. 

“Yohji, you can’t go back to sleep. You need to eat.” 

"Call room service or whatever they have here, I'm tired," he all but whined. But he already knew Aya wasn't going to relent and let him sleep. He never did. It just felt so good to be lying there, warm and relaxed and knowing that they weren't running from Rosenkruez or Kritiker anymore. 

"Love you," he murmured, reaching for the red-head, hoping to pull him down for a kiss or a cuddle. 

Aya allowed a quick cuddle and even gave Yohji a kiss but he was remorseless. “We need the right clothes if we’re to fit in at all so you have to get up and get measured.” 

There was a wicked gleam in the blond's eyes as he said, "I am up, and I know exactly what the measurement is." 

Aya sighed. “Yes and so do I,” he snapped. “We don’t have time for all that right now. Now get your lazy ass out of that bed!” 

"God are you cranky when you haven't had your morning tea," Yohji grumbled as he crawled out from under the covers. "I still love you, though gods know why that is. You're irritable, bad tempered... beautiful, kissable..." which is exactly what Yohji did at that point, he kissed the red-head, working up enough passion to make sure the younger man knew exactly what he was going to miss: steamy sex with someone that thought the sun rose and set because of him. 

Aya returned the kiss but quickly pulled away. “Now, Yohji.” He stood up and folded his arms, clearly waiting for Yohji to dress himself. 

Although it didn’t show, his mind was in turmoil. Part of him would like nothing better than to crawl back into the bed and forget the whole world in Yohji’s arms for a while. Another part was more concerned with their survival, old instincts that wouldn’t just go away. Yet another part was thinking about Zeshin and…Brad. 

"Ah well, I had to try." Yohji got out of bed and dressed, but his gaze kept roving over Aya as if the man were made of water and Yohji was dying of thirst. 

“I know,” Aya said with a slight smile. “But we do need to do these things if we’re to fit in here at all.” 

He got his boots on and then stood, his arms going around Aya and pulling the younger man close, "I really do love you, you know that, right?" he asked, voice dropped to a whisper. 

“I know, Yohji, I know. I’m not sure that I deserve it, but I know.” He gave Yohji a quick hug. “But now I’d better make sure that everyone else is up and ready to go.” 

The blond nodded, but couldn't help pulling his lover back into his arms, "Aya... if you want to just..." he shook his head at a loss for words, or more truthfully having trouble expressing how what was happening between them made him feel. It came out in a rush, "If you want me to just walk away, if that's what I have to do to make you happy then I will." 

He let Aya go and stepped away, turning his back so that Aya couldn't see the tears in his eyes. "Just tell me what you want, Aya. I'll do anything. I swear," his voice was surprisingly calm and steady, mission mode putting a lid on the pain that was tearing at him. 

“Yohji, I… don’t know what I want. And now is not the time to discuss this.” 

"I know. I just wanted to let you know that whatever you decide I'll deal with it, okay?" the blond asked as he headed for the door of their room. 

And none of that was helping him, Aya realised. He had no desire to hurt Yohji especially after thinking he was all that was left for so long. He loved Yohji, even though his lover irritated him, but Crawford’s words were haunting him. _He’ll never be able to give you what you really want._

Sighing he went to organise the rest of the team.


	2. Hotel California

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Zeshin smiled at Aya-chan, “I’m sure Fujimiya-san will be along in a minute,” he was saying to the girl as the man he was speaking about stepped into the hallway. 

Aya glanced at his sister then did a double take at what she was wearing. The mini-skirt might be just fine on the streets of Tokyo but in nineteenth century Sacramento it just wasn’t going to wash. Schuldig was good but not that good! 

“Aya-chan, nice as you look, I think jeans would be better until we can get you some of the right sort of clothes. 

His sister gazed down at what she was wearing before she shook her head at her own stupidity. “Sorry, onichan, I forgot,” she said before disappearing into her room to change. 

Aya turned his attention to Zeshin. “Are the others up yet?” he asked. 

“Ken threw a pillow at me, Farfarello said something I didn’t understand at all and I was not about to ask for clarification based on his tone of voice,” the pale haired boy replied. 

“I see,” Aya said grimly and headed towards the room that Ken and the rest of Schwarz were sharing. He threw the door open and barked, “Up! Now! Crawford’s told me what we have to do and we’re going to do it.” 

Ken was putting on his shoes, Farfarello was sitting on the dresser watching his lover absently flipping a knife in his hand, catching it by the handle or the flat of the blade with equal alacrity. 

“Oh. Okay then.” Aya felt dumb and really didn’t like the feeling. “Let’s get some food.” 

He shut the door on them just as Kai headed up the stairs. “I’ve ordered Crawford’s breakfast,” the ex-yakuza said. “Steak and eggs, right? They’re gonna bring it up to his room as soon as it’s ready.” 

“Thanks,” Aya muttered as he waited for everyone to assemble in the hallway. 

Ken was the first one out, his dark hair still tousled from sleep since he didn’t have a comb or brush to use. He grinned sheepishly at Aya and shrugged, “I lost my comb somewhere.” 

Yohji reached into the back pocket of his jeans and produced a hideous bright green comb which he offered to Ken. “Keep it, I have another one.” 

Schuldig was next. “Food or clothes first?” he asked Aya. 

“Can you hide our clothing long enough for us to eat?” Aya realised he was going to have to find out exactly what this new, mixed team were capable of doing. 

The telepath nodded. “It shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“He can sit by me in case he needs a boost to hide us from too many people,” Yohji offered quietly as he dug out his last pack of cigarettes and contemplated them. “We’re going to have to find a substitute for these too or Schuldig and I will be poor company very soon.” 

Ken sighed, “This is going to be hard to get used to. No television, no video games.” 

Farfarello joined them just as Ken mentioned video games, “Fucking lovely. And here I was waiting for the new Resident Evil to come out.” He frowned, “In trade for no longer running from Rosenkreuz I think I can deal with that aspect of our current situation.” 

“Put that way,’ Ken began, “I’m going to find myself not even missing soccer too much.” 

“No anime or manga,” Zeshin remarked with a soft sigh. “What did... do people do for fun I wonder?” 

“Drink, gamble and screw from what I can tell by the sounds from the street last night,” Farfarello commented dryly. 

Zeshin actually blushed slightly, “Oh.” 

Schuldig chuckled. “If Vater lets me gamble I should make a killing,” he said. 

“I think he beat you to it,” Aya said with the trace of a smile. “Zeshin, see if you can hurry my sister up a bit will you?” 

“No need, I’m here.” Aya-chan had swapped the mini-skirt for jeans and had tucked her long hair under a cap for good measure. She looked almost boyish. 

Zeshin smiled shyly at her, “You look cute like that,” he remarked softly. 

Yohji frowned, “Isn’t Nagi coming?” 

Ken stuck his head in the door, “Nagi, you coming? We’re going to go eat.” 

“Sorry, Ken, I was just coming.” 

Nagi appeared in the hall, still pulling on a light jacket. 

Aya glanced round at them all and felt the stirring of pride. He now understood precisely why Crawford wanted to save them all. They were worth saving. 

“Okay, let’s go eat,” he said and led them towards the stairs. 

Ken started to slip his arm around his lover and thought better of it. There was no telling what people in this time might think about a pair of men arm in arm going to breakfast. 

“I guess rice and vegetables won’t be on the menu here,” Yohji commented as he headed down the stairs. They swayed slightly under the weight of everyone and he frowned. “This is going to take getting used too. Wood buildings and stairs. No more smoking indoors I think.” 

“Since we’re all sharing a room with you, that would be the considerate thing to do anyway, Kudoh-san.” 

Aya hid a grin. Zeshin had politely said what he would have been far more forceful about stating. 

“You’ve got a point there, Yohji,” Schuldig said unhappily. “Ah well, we can always go to the saloon for a smoke.” 

They found that the hotel had a small dining room that was serving breakfasts and trooped in. 

“One of you is going to have to help us with the English menu,” Aya said. “I mean I can read English but what the hell is sourdough bread?” 

“You’ve got me on that one,” Yohji said as he looked at the menu written on a board on the wall. 

“It’s a way of rising bread, its not bad. Makes a great sandwich if you pile on enough roast beef,” Farfarello remarked as he sat back in his seat. 

Aya grimaced slightly. He was going to have to get used to this sort of food. “Is steak and eggs any good or is there something else that we might want to eat?” He indicated the Japanese members of the party as he spoke. 

Farfarello considered the menu, “I’m not sure how you’ll like eggs. I don’t like them to be honest,” the Irishman admitted. “They do have fried potatoes and steak, toast too. You might be better off trying that instead of eggs.” 

“Well I know for a fact I hate eggs,” Yohji remarked. “I’ll go with Farfarello’s suggestion.” 

“I’ll take the steak and eggs,” Ken stated. “I’ve had it before, it’s okay.” 

Zeshin was studying the menu with an intensity that spoke of someone having trouble deciphering the symbols. “Is there any fruit?” 

“They’ve got oranges,” Aya said, “but you should eat more than that. How do they cook the eggs, Farfarello?” 

Ken watched as a man in a nicely tailored Victorian suit walked in and surveyed the room. The man paused just inside the door, pale grey eyes scanning the tables as if he were searching for someone. His dark hair showed a few strands of grey, his neatly trimmed moustache was also threaded with silver. He pulled out a gold pocket watch and glanced at it, a frown appearing on his face. 

“He looks important,” Kai remarked. 

“Yeah,” Ken agreed. 

“He’s also looking for someone,” Yohji remarked as a young man started toward their table, his expression none too friendly. “Trouble at three o’clock,” the blond warned. 

“You the waiter, sonny?” Schuldig asked the young man. “If you’re not, then piss off.” 

“I’m the owner’s son, and we don’t allow foreigners in here. Now the lot of you get out.” 

The man who’d been standing by the door seemed to take notice of them, probably because of the young man drawing his gaze. His frown didn’t abate, but he did stride toward them purposefully. 

One golden eyebrow arched in Schuldig’s direction as Yohji said, “I guess he doesn’t know who we’re with,” he said in heavily accented English. 

Then Aya astounded everyone by saying in almost perfect English. “We work for Mr Crawford. Do you have a problem with that? Now, could we please have some breakfast?” 

“And who in the hell is Mr. Crawford?” the boy asked. 

“Pardon,” the nicely dressed man said. He had a light British accent, and he offered Aya a stiffly formal smile, “Did I hear you say you work for Mr. Crawford?” 

The hotel owner’s son shot a glance at the man, “Another foreigner,” he muttered in disgust. 

“Were you born this rude or did you have to practice?” Schuldig asked the hotel owner’s son. “Not only are we business associates of Mr Crawford but we are also guests at this hotel. If you don’t believe me, run off and talk to your father. He checked us in yesterday evening.” 

He frowned suddenly. “And while you’re at it, send a goddamn waiter!” 

The young man glared at the people at the table and stalked off, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll just speak with my father then.” 

The nicely dressed man sighed, “I’m afraid you’ll only encounter more such poor manners around this city. Beastly Americans...” he frowned, “not your boss of course. He’s from back East where manners are taught.” 

He shook his head, “Speaking of manners, let me introduce myself, I’m Algernon Porter. I wanted to speak with Mr. Crawford about a business matter. Is he about anywhere?” 

“He’s resting right now,” Aya told the newcomer. “Perhaps we could give him a message for you or arrange a meeting.” 

“I was afraid of that. I saw him at the saloon last night. Dreadful place, but everyone appears to conduct their business there.” 

Porter glanced around, pulled a nearby chair closer to Aya and sat down, “Please forgive me, but I’m a bit tired myself.” 

Yohji watched the man, feeling more than tiredness at the core of the man’s reason for seating himself. He was ill. He shot a glance at Schuldig, wondering what was wrong with Porter and whether it was contagious. 

*Tuberculosis. He is contagious but probably not to us as everyone of us has had the vaccination. Just as well really in this time period.* 

“Would you care to join us for breakfast, Mr Porter?” Aya asked. “Always provided we get some, of course.” 

Ken scooted his chair closer to Nagi’s, his stomach protesting that it was becoming as annoyed as the rest of them were at the lack of service. “Maybe I should go track down someone to take our order,” he said in somewhat better English than Yohji. 

Zeshin nodded, “That might be a good idea since everyone else has been served but us.” 

The Englishman looked at the boy that had just spoken, finding that he was barely able to understand a word the child had said. If they didn’t speak the language it was going to be devilishly hard for them to get by. 

“Beastly people here,” Algernon commented again, “they aren’t like this in the East.” 

“Ah well, that’s the civilised side of this godforsaken country,” Schuldig remarked. He was pleased to see a waiter hurrying across to their table. The hotel owner had obviously put his son straight. 

*Sorry, Aya, the eggs are scrambled usually.* 

Breakfast was ordered, including some for Mr Porter, and the waiter scooted away to deal with it. 

“Was Mr Crawford expecting you?” Aya asked the Englishman. 

“He and I spoke briefly last night about a business proposal. He was quite interested actually.” The man smiled that stiff little smile again. “A very intelligent man, Crawford. Not like these clods.” 

Algernon paused, wondering if he should really discuss business with the man’s servants. The German would have been his first choice to speak with, everyone knew how astute the entire race was. But the pale young man with the unusual violet eyes and fiery hair was more outspoken than the German which made Algernon wonder if he wasn’t actually the one in charge when Crawford wasn’t around. Perhaps he was the man’s valet or butler, but looking at the young man he couldn’t honestly picture him in either role. 

Zeshin picked up his glass of water and stared at it, wondering if it was safe to drink or not. 

“I see,” Aya said. “I imagine he will wish to speak with you again at some point but, right now, I don’t wish to wake him. Could I request that you return here this afternoon if that is convenient to you. He should be awake by then.” 

He was amazed at how well he remembered his father’s tuition in how to speak to prospective clients and businessmen in general. However, he wanted to be sure that this whole deal was on the level. 

*Schu, did he meet with Brad and will Brad want to see him?* 

*Yes to both. He could be quite lucrative.* 

“Oh, of course. I didn’t realize how late Mr. Crawford had remained at the card game. I certainly wouldn’t want him awakened on my account, and I’d be pleased to meet him later. I’m staying at a boarding house a few streets away.” 

From a nearby table a voice could clearly be heard saying, “Something in this place sure stinks.” 

Raucous laughter erupted and Porter winced, “It’s much quieter there.” He glanced nervously at the table full of men, face pinching into an expression of distaste, “Fewer insufferable boors and dirt grubbing clods,” he added in a whisper. 

Yohji’s jade eyes were on the table full of loudmouths, the blond chewing but obviously paying little attention to the food. 

Ken was sitting with his back to the men, “Yeah, something in her does stink,” he muttered, nose wrinkling as an errant shift in the wind carried the stench of unwashed skin their way. 

Zeshin’s nose crinkled and he covered his face with the napkin, “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore,” he said in Japanese. 

Aya caught Schuldig’s eyes. *Could you ‘suggest’ to that bunch of great unwashed that it’s time for their yearly bath?* 

Schuldig smirked. *I like the way you think, Aya.* The telepath concentrated for a moment and suddenly all the men at the table arose and left in a hurry. 

“Now eat your food,” Aya said to Zeshin in Japanese before he turned his attention back to Porter. “A boarding house, you say? Would it be possible for Mr Crawford to call on you there?” 

Yohji watched the bunch of men leaving, gave a nod to Schuldig, and went back to his meal. 

Zeshin picked up some of the orange slices, smiled at Schuldig and started to eat. 

Ken actually grinned at Schuldig, “Nice. Very nice,” he said in Japanese. 

Porter watched as the group of men departed, their meals hardly touched. He’d expected trouble and there was just no accounting for why the men would simply depart, leaving food unfinished and the group he was seated with unmolested. 

“Mr. Crawford said you’d only just arrived in Sacramento. I know it’s none of my business, but I’d like to offer you a little advice. People here are very... well uncivilized. It’s a good idea not to walk alone at night, and not to go about alone at all if you can help it.” He wiped his brow with a handkerchief he’d pulled from his pocket, “I feel as if I’m taking my life in my hands every time I leave the boarding house, but a man must be able to conduct business.” 

Aya nodded his thanks to Schuldig before smiling at Porter. “Oh I think we’ll fit in just fine,” he said. “We are not exactly civilised ourselves, being foreigners, now are we? Believe me, Mr Porter, we are very well able to take care of ourselves although I do thank you for your advice.” 

As Aya turned his attention back to his food at that point, Schuldig spoke up. “I agree with you wholeheartedly, sir. What sort of business are you involved in?” 

“Importing goods from overseas. People here want things to buy, but the demand isn’t being met. I have suppliers for tea, china, fabrics and spices.” 

“Lucrative,” was all that Aya said. No wonder Crawford was interested. 

“Yes, it will be,” Porter agreed. 

“You need financial backing?” Yohji asked. 

Porter looked at the blond man, expression puzzled, “What was that again? I didn’t quite catch what you said.” 

Yohji sighed, “You want Mr. Crawford to finance your venture, is that it?” 

“Yes yes, that’s quite right,” Porter replied, nodding. Unlike the red-haired gentleman, the blond was difficult to understand. 

“Sounds like something Mr Crawford would be interested in, don’t you agree, Schuldig?” Farfarello asked. He cut another piece of steak and studied it on the end of his fork before placing it into his mouth and chewing slowly. 

“Without a doubt,” Schuldig said with a smile, “he’s always good at seeing opportunity.” 

Nagi leaned against Ken, bored by the business talk and his breakfast finished. “Are there a lot of rooms in this boarding house.” Crawford, of course, had made sure that his English was impeccable.” 

“A few. I hate to say it, but even with Mr. Crawford being present, few places will tolerate foreigners, especially... well non-European ones,” he said giving a glance in the direction of Nagi and Ken who, of the group, looked the most Asian. 

“And I wonder how long we foreigners will tolerate being here,” Aya said testily. Kami-sama but these people were ignorant. And in his own ultra-polite way, Porter was as racist as the rest of them. 

“I shouldn’t worry too much if I were you,” Schuldig said soothingly to Aya. “If I know Mr Crawford as well as I think I do, we’ll have our own mansion before the end of the week.” 

“Mr. Crawford is a very resourceful man. I'm sure he'll find a suitable place for himself," Porter remarked. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and coughed delicately a few times before clearing his throat. "Pardon. I've had this dreadful cough for months and no doctor in this godforsaken country can discover its cause, much less properly treat it." 

He put the handkerchief back into his pocket. "And I'm afraid I must be running along. I have another business appointment that I dare not miss." He gave them a polite nod of the head and rose, "It's been quite a pleasure to speak with you Mr. Ah... Dear I don't recall your name. I'm beastly about not remembering names." 

“I didn’t give you my name, Mr Porter but for what it’s worth it’s Fujimiya. I’ll be sure to let Mr Crawford know you were looking for him.” 

Schuldig waited until the man had left the dining room before remarking, “What a stuck-up mass of ignorant assumptions that man is. He’ll be ripe for the plucking. And he’s not likely to live much longer with the TB. It was almost always lethal at this time.” 

“Then Crawford will have to decide quickly if he wants to invest,” Aya said. “Personally, I think he should. The man is right. Commodities here would make big money.” 

“I wonder if he could be persuaded to import sushi,” Kai said forlornly. 

"You wouldn't import sushi, you'd have to find the ingredients to make it with," Zeshin remarked. "And if we could, well I can make passable sushi." 

Yohji glanced at Zeshin, "Really?" His tone wasn't very friendly, and the boy visibly flinched. 

“If everyone’s finished we still have to buy clothes,” Aya said quickly before Yohji could become even nastier. He glared at his lover. 

The blond stood, "I'm going to go have a smoke first. Anyone care to join me?" 

“Yeah, I’ll join you,” Schuldig said, pushing his plate aside. 

Farfarello bolted down the last few bites of his steak, and what was left of Schuldig's for good measure, the man grinning, pleased with the meal. 

Zeshin took another drink of water and rose to help Aya-chan with the heavy wooden chair. 

Ken shoved a piece of toast in his mouth and got to his feet, "That wasn't bad," he mumbled around the toast in his mouth. 

“I think your taste buds have died, Ken,” Nagi said. “Although that wasn’t quite as bad as the bratwurst Schuldig tried to feed me once.” 

"Ken can eat almost anything," Yohji commented as he left the table with Schuldig. 

Zeshin watched the blond a second before looking at Aya, "I think I'll stay here and watch our things. Didn't Crawford-san say that someone should protect our gear until we know nothing will be stolen?" 

Aya didn’t argue. It was probably wise to keep Zeshin and Yohji apart as much as possible. “Okay,” he said. “Someone can take you to get clothes later.” 

He stood up and threw some of the paper money Crawford had given him down on the table. The gold was carefully tucked away still but he would need it to get them all clothing. Especially as four of them would probably need to have their clothing made to measure. 

"Did Crawford say where the clothing store is?" Ken asked. 

“No, but I’m sure we can find it,” Aya said. “It shouldn’t be that hard to find.” 

"Hmm... I wonder if we're even looking for a clothing store. Did they even have those?" Ken wondered. 

Yohji stepped out onto the boardwalk in front of the hotel. He was getting his first look at the town and he frowned. "I've always wanted to visit America, but I don't think this is what I had in mind," he remarked as a horse drawn wagon made its way down the street amid pedestrians, and others mounted on horseback. 

He took a cigarette out of his pack and offered the pack to Schuldig, "We're going to need to keep our eyes out for a place that sells tobacco. I don't have many left, what about you?" 

“About two packs I think, not a lot. I know they had chewing tobacco…” He chuckled suddenly. “The finicky amongst us are just going to love spittoons! I’m pretty certain they had cigars and cigarillos and hopefully rolling tobacco. I think they bought it from the general store.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Yohji said, “people chew tobacco and then spit the stuff all over the place.” 

“Sounds about right,” Ken said as he surveyed the street and the filth. “I don’t know, the smell here might prove just as bad as anything Rosenkruez could do to us,” he said as he wiped at his eyes. 

“I bet that’s really why Zeshin stayed in the hotel room. He doesn’t do well around bad smells,” the brunet added. 

“Neither do I,” Aya said as he wrinkled his nose in distaste. He glanced up and down the street and spotted a general store. “I guess we’d better try there first.” 

Yohji glanced at Schuldig, “Can you mind control these people into thinking baths are good and clean streets are a sign of prosperity?” 

“I can manage the bathing, not so sure about the streets. No matter what I do there’s still gonna be horse shit everywhere.” 

“Lovely,” Nagi remarked, “just lovely.” 

Even Aya-chan grimaced as they headed down the street towards the store. 

“At least we can stick to the boardwalks except at intersections,” Yohji said as they made their way down the street. 

Ken frowned, “We’re attracting a lot of attention,” he stated softly. “Maybe you should do that blurring thing some more Schuldig.” 

Farfarello frowned, “He can’t keep that up constantly. It’s a strain for him to blur our appearance to so many minds and even if Kudoh helps he will still get tired.” 

“Trouble incoming,” Kai said softly, “I think it’s that bunch from the restaurant.” 

Sure enough the loud mouths from the adjacent table were picking their way across the street towards them. 

Aya pushed Aya-chan into a doorway and turned to face the trouble, eyes narrowed as he reached into his boot for the knife he always kept there. 

“Can we handle them without violence?” Yohji asked Schuldig, “or do we get nasty?” 

Farfarello grinned, “I say we get nasty, just let the locals know we aren’t something they want to fuck around with.” 

Ken stepped in front of Nagi, “Unfortunately, I’m going to agree with Berserker.” 

Farfarello smirked, “The kitten has started to learn.” 

Aya nodded, eyes still on the approaching gang. “Nagi, take care of Aya-chan, please. The rest of you know exactly what to do.” 

Ken gave a curt nod. “Hai.” 

Yohji calmly pulled on a pair of gloves, his cigarette dangling from his mouth. 

“Well lookee here what we found. They sure do smell funny, don’t they Matt?” the tallest of the four said. He was about Aya’s height, lean and hard. A ragged scar ran from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. 

“Yeah they sure do, Josh,” the shortest of the four said. 

“It’s called bathing, you should try it,” Yohji remarked, his accent a bit softer, his eyes hard and cold as he slipped into mission mode. 

“What do you think these here guys are? Ain’t American’s that’s sure.” 

“Nah, they ain’t. Someone needs to teach them that their kind just don’t walk around like they own the place,” the last man said as he spit a stream of brown into the dirt. 

Farfarello stepped out in front of the rest of his team. He grinned at the thought, Yes, we are a team now. Us against everyone else. He found that he actually liked the idea of having the Weiss with them. 

No, not Weiss anymore, we all belong to Brad, we’re all Schwarz now. 

Yes, he liked that idea. “And what do you fools think you’re going to do?” he asked letting his Irish accent flow freely for a change. 

“Well now, lemme see. Hows about I kick your lily-white, Irish ass fer starters,” the one called Matt suggested. 

Aya actually smiled. “Not a good idea,” he said. 

Kai pulled his sai out of his pockets. 

“What purty knives. Shame I’m gonna have to take them from you,” the spitting man said. 

“You can try,” Kai invited. 

One of the men reached for a gun. 

“YAIYAIYAI!” rose over the sounds of the town as Farfarello swept toward the three men. 

A thin filament of wire spun out to wrap around the gunman, binding his arm to his body. “Naughty of you to bring a gun to a knife fight,” Yohji commented softly, his cigarette still perched in his mouth. 

Spitting man tried to rush Kai who neatly side stepped, his sai spinning at a rate guaranteed to make his opponent dizzy just watching. Then one stopped spinning and buried itself in spitting man’s arm. 

“We playing for sleeps or keeps, Aya,” he asked calmly. 

“Keeps.” Aya’s deep voice was cold as he plunged his knife into the throat of the man that Ken had winded. 

The second sai found spitting man’s heart. 

Farfarello’s knife flashed once, and the man fell to the filthy street, holding his guts which were spilling out between his hands. 

“Too bad for them,” Yohji remarked as he flipped a coil of wire around the gunman’s neck and yanked hard. Blood flowed from the man’s severed throat. Yohji twitched the wire and retracted it, not willing to lose it when he didn’t have any to replace what he carried. 

“Guess I’ll have to switch to a local gun,” he remarked coolly. 

Everyone on the street had stopped to watch in macabre fascination as four of the town’s notorious trouble makers came to a bloody and well deserved end. 

Aya wiped his knife clean on his victim’s shirt before sheathing it back in his boot. “So,” he said as if nothing had happened, “shall we get this damned clothing bought?” 

Kai retrieved his sai and wiped them clean before returning them to his pockets. “Ready when you are,” he said. 

Aya-chan stepped past a protective Nagi and hugged her brother in silent thanks. The four men had shaken her up especially when one of them had pulled a gun. 

Nagi grinned at Yohji. “Take his,” he suggested pointing at the gun still held loosely in Josh’s fist. “Luckily I didn’t need to reduce it to so much scrap metal.” 

“No, thanks but no. I think I want something with a bit of class,” Yohji remarked as he removed his gloves. “Besides if his state of filth is any indication, that gun hasn’t been cleaned since he bought it.” 

Farfarello’s singular stare swept the watching crowd before he rejoined the others on the boardwalk. “I’d say we’ve made an impression.” 

“Yeah, but good, bad or indifferent, that’s what I’d like to know.” Ken glanced at his fists, frowning at a cut on his knuckle. 

Zeshin came running out of the hotel, “Is everyone all right? I heard Farfarello yelling and...” he went silent as he saw the bodies in the street. “I see, well... I guess everyone’s okay then.” 

“We’re fine,” Aya said as he gazed around at the small crowd that had gathered. “Probably bad,” he added as answer to Ken’s question, “but here, I don’t think that’s the wrong place to be. It should deter anymore eager amateurs.” 

Schuldig chuckled after assuring himself that Farfarello didn’t have a scratch on him. “Neat, very neat. And you guys thought you were so different to us when you were exactly the same.” 

“Perhaps,” Aya acknowledged. “We were led by the noses for long enough.” 

“Short and curlies would be more truthful,” Yohji muttered as he shoved his gloves into his pocket and took a drag of his cigarette. 

“No shit,” Ken remarked his tone venomous. 

*Schuldig I trust you are all well and have settled the dispute,* Crawford’s voice said in the German’s head. 

The Irishman refrained from kissing Schuldig, but the telepath could feel how difficult it was for him not to grab the taller man and pin him to the closest wall. He was always like that after a kill, eager to share his joy at spilling blood with his lover. 

But they were on a public street and being watched by the rest of their team, and a bunch of backwater morons. *We’ll play later,* he promised. 

*All present and unharmed, Vater,* Schuldig sent to Brad then to Farfarello, *I’ll hold you to that.* 

Farfarello just grinned. 

Schuldig got the impression of a yawn from Brad. *I forgot to mention, if you meet with an Englishman named Algernon Porter do me a favour and treat him as if he’s made of gold. For all intents and purposes he is, the man is our ticket to a great deal of wealth.* 

*We bought him his breakfast this morning and arranged for you to meet later today. I think he‘s under the impression that we‘re your servants.* 

*Excellent. And we shall leave everyone to believe that you work for me as underlings. People always underestimate the servants. Don’t get into more trouble than absolutely necessary. If you run into anything masquerading as the law and they appear ready to put you into a cell, call me. I’ll set them straight.* The connection broke 

Aya sighed. “Let’s get these damned clothes bought and get back to the hotel.” How he hated shopping. “Schuldig, I hope you know what Crawford will want. He says you do.” 

“I’ll go back and guard our stuff then, if everyone is okay.” 

“Good idea,” Yohji commented. 

Ken sighed and shook his head at the way the blond was acting. Jealousy was a terrible thing. Glancing at Nagi he realized he’d be really annoyed if someone tried to get between him and Nagi, but then again he didn’t think Nagi would want a second lover either the way Aya did if he was reading the signs right. 

Glancing at the red-head and the blond he was pretty sure he had read the signs all too clearly. 

They trooped into the general store and Aya stated their business and asked if anyone actually did made to measure clothing. 

The shop owner stared at the horde of foreigners that had descended on his establishment. “I... umm... no, you’d have to go to a tailor for that. I sell the cloth though, and I’ve got a nice selection of men’s attire but...” he looked at the men and paled slightly. They looked the dangerous sort, if the scars covering the one-eyed man were any indication of their line of work. 

“Tobacco,” Yohji said the word clearly, “do you stock it?” Clothes he had, if not those common to this era, but tobacco was essential to his well being, and that of the people around him. 

“Yes sir, finest quality Virginia, good for chewing or rolling.” 

“Can we look at your clothing and cloth, please?” Aya asked after shooting a glare Yohji’s way. “His addictions can wait.” 

Yohji turned a long suffering look on Schuldig, “Do you see what I have to deal with?” he asked. 

“Complain, complain, complain,” Ken muttered as he made his way to a table full of neatly folded jeans and flannel shirts. 

Nagi followed his lover and was soon happily picking through the piles with him. Kai also headed in that direction and was soon joined by Schuldig. 

Aya turned back to the shopkeeper. “And I’d like some clothing suitable for a young lady,” he added. “If we have to have it made that’s fine.” As he spoke, a long, yellow, chamois leather duster caught his eye. “Could I try that on, please?” 

The shopkeeper watched the group of young men, uncertain what he should do or say. He didn’t want them angry with him, but he was also wondering about money or whether they planned to rob him. 

Nodding at Aya, the shopkeeper watched as the tall blond man went to his display case of handguns. 

It was then that he noticed something very odd about the men. Not one of them was carrying a revolver. 

Aya, noticing that the shopkeeper had the look of something that had been stuffed, contacted Schuldig. *What’s his problem apart from us being foreign?* 

*He’s confused about our lack of obvious weaponry and is wondering how we’re going to pay. I take it Brad did give you some funds? Credit cards aren’t going to cut it here.* 

*I’ve got some gold that Crawford gave me for this. Let’s put this idiot’s mind at rest.* 

He cut the connection to Schuldig and dug into his pocket. Retrieving the thumbnail sized gold nugget he placed it on the counter. “If our order comes to more than that let me know,” he said. “I can get more before the end of the day.” 

The shopkeepers eyes lit on the gold and he swallowed. “That will pay for the coat you’re looking at, but it’s going to take quite a bit more money to pay for the rest of you.” 

Yohji looked over his shoulder at the man, “Really?” He turned, leaning his hip against the display counter, “That seems a bit expensive for one coat.” 

The shopkeeper stared at the blond, something in the way the man stood there reminding him of a gunslinger that had come into his shop not too long ago. He swallowed nervously. “Since the Rush things have gotten expensive. Lots of demand, but the supply doesn’t meet it. I’ve got to make a profit or I’ll go out of business.” 

“Let’s see, now,” Aya said looking at the prices on the jeans, shirts and guns in the display cabinet. “At a guess I’d say you’re putting about a three hundred percent mark-up on. I’m prepared to let you have no more than fifty percent mark-up on what we buy. And even that is generous. Or should I take my gold and go to another store? I’m sure there’s more than one store in town. And even if there isn't, I'm almost certain you want to keep your fat guts intact.” 

The man paled, “Please, I have to earn a living just like anyone else.” Panicked eyes looked from the red-haired man that had just threatened him to the blond leaning so casually against the gun display. He swallowed, “I have bills to pay...” but what crossed his mind was the weekly sums he had to pay to the ‘merchants association’ that had become the terror of all the business owners. 

*Aya, he’s got a monster on his back. Some sort of protection racket going down here.* 

*Okay, Schu, can you let Yohji know before he gets carried away?* 

“Just tell me how much that will buy at a fifty percent mark-up,” Aya suggested. “If it works out well, we’ll either add more goods to the value of this tiny little nugget, or we’ll bring you more gold. What do you say? I‘m not trying to rob you here. I‘m just looking for a fair price for me and a profit for you.” 

The man was sweating, gaze shifting back and forth between Aya and Yohji. “The coat and one change of clothes for them,” he said pointing to Ken and Nagi. 

Yohji could feel terror coming off the man, the fear bleeding out of him like the sweat soaking his flesh. 

His jade gaze met Schuldig’s azure eyes, the blond trying to establish a mental connection, and only managing some static. The German could see the frustration in his expression. 

*Don’t try so hard, Yohji. I can hear you and make you hear me. What’s on your mind?* He read the message that Yohji had tried to send and nodded. *Okay, I’ll make sure everyone knows.* 

*Aya, everyone, we’ve got company.* 

Ken instantly stepped between Nagi and the door, reaching out to grip Aya-chan gently by the arm and guide her closer to the telekinetic. “Just in case,” he told them in Japanese. 

Yohji remained in his relaxed pose while Farfarello, with a nod to the German, stepped closer to a display of hand tools, shovels mostly with a couple of pick axes thrown into the mix. 

Aya picked up the gold and put it back in his pocket, while Kai’s hands were dug into his pockets as if he was totally relaxed. Schuldig continued sorting through the clothing available. 

“There is some cash here as well,” Aya said as if nothing had happened and pulling a hundred dollar bill from another pocket. “Will that add enough for another outfit?” 

“That should give you enough for the other two boys,” he said, mistaking Aya-chan for a boy. 

A slim dark-haired man came strolling through the door. He was the picture of the word ‘gunslinger’ right down to the Colt strapped to his right hip, and the Stetson hat he wore. 

The eyes that swept the room were black as obsidian, and just as dead and cold as the volcanic glass they resembled. 

“Mornin‘, Carter. Do you have that package for Mr. Everette?” He was speaking to the store owner, but his eyes were regarding Yohji, as if he were taking the blond’s measure. A hint of a frown touched his mouth, turning the hard line even harsher. 

“Why yes. It’s right here,” the storeowner said and retrieving a small box from under the counter, handed it over. “I think Mr Everette will like it.” 

Schuldig was frowning slightly but he kept his attention firmly on the clothing. 

The gunslinger’s gaze swept the room again, stopping on Aya-chan. A slight smile touched his mouth, but it came no where near his eyes as he tipped his hat, “Ma’am,” he said and then stepped out. 

The shopkeeper stared at the dark haired boy, then frowned. It was a girl. And a pretty one too. 

“I umm... that is the ladies dresses are over here,” he said indicating another table full of bright colours. 

*Aya, that bastard is shielded. All I got from him is menace. I think he may be like us so keep your mind shielded round him.* 

Ken walked to the door and watched the man with a keen intensity he normally reserved for recon missions. “I saw him last night, standing out on the boardwalk across the street from the hotel.” 

The shopkeeper debated keeping his mouth shut, then he said, “You young men are best not worrying about him. He’s not someone you want to mess with.” 

“I suspect not,” Yohji drawled, but there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes. The same glint he got when he was confronted with the dark beasts they used to hunt. 

Meanwhile Aya-chan shuddered. The way that man had looked at her had made her feel like she had no clothes on. Not a position she would ever wish to be in with him. 

Aya turned back to the shopkeeper. “So the gold and a hundred buys four outfits and a coat,” he said as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “How much for tobacco and the gun my friend seems interested in?” 

“Depends on the gun,” the shopkeeper replied. 

“Okay, you can talk that over with him. We still need to look at cloth for our employer and my tall friend here.” 

Aya-chan wandered over to the ladies table and picked up a very odd-looking contraption. Deciding she didn’t like the look of it she put it back down and picked up a cobalt blue dress. 

Farfarello moved over to the door, “I’ll watch. Pick out a pair of jeans for me, waist should be twenty-six, length is thirty-two.” 

Ken nodded, “That guy gave me the creeps.” 

Farfarello turned his amber eye on Ken, “Me too.” 

The ex-Weiss blinked. He’d never thought to hear an admission like that from any of the Schwarz, especially not Farfarello. 

Yohji pointed to a plain looking revolver with an ivory handle. “That one.” 

The shopkeeper frowned, “You don’t have enough money for that.” 

“Then we’ll get it,” the blond said flatly. 

“Well get it and come back,” the shopkeeper stated. 

Aya had had more than enough of both the storekeeper and his store by now. “We’ve all got jeans,” he said in Japanese, “so just pick out a shirt each. Aya, if you want that dress bring it over here.” 

When Aya-chan brought the dress across he added the coat to it and the shirts that the others handed to him. “Tobacco,” he said to Carter in English, “and the gun my friend wants. Does the tailor sell cloth?” 

“No,” the storekeeper said. 

“Schu, pick out the right cloth for Brad, please.” Again it had been said in rapid Japanese. 

Schuldig eyed the bolts of cloth and selected a good quality, pale grey worsted. Then he picked out a royal blue cotton for a shirt. 

“Add them to the pile,” Aya instructed, “Yohji, see if any of the damned shirts will fit you and if not pick out some cloth.” 

"Now," in patient English, "how much?" 

The man was staring at the foreign man with the red hair and the pallid complexion with something approaching hate, “Give me the gold and the hundred and get out.” 

Yohji turned to Carter, a lazy smile forming on his lips, “Look, we’re customers. We work for Mr. Crawford. He’s an American from out East and he sent us down here to get a few things we need. He’s a very wealthy and influential man, is Mr. Crawford. Now, can we do this in a nice, civilized manner, or...” he took a step closer to the shopkeeper, “do we have to tell our boss how we couldn’t get the things he sent us for because you were being an ass?” 

Carter wasn’t stupid. Word had already spread about the bespectacled easterner who had won big at the saloon last night. If he was wealthy… 

“What say I open an account for Mr Crawford and we put all your things on that?” 

“Now you’re beginning to make some sense,” Aya said. “But I’ll give you the gold and the hundred to put against the purchases. Can we choose the rest of our purchases now?” 

“Of course.” Suddenly Carter couldn’t do enough for them.


	3. Intolerance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

In short order they had everything they’d come for and the directions to the tailor shop down the street. 

Yohji was actually grinning as he strapped on the gun holster as they left the general store and Farfarello was testing the edge on a Bowie knife, shaving the hair from the back of his arm with a grin that matched Kudoh’s. 

Aya was quietly pleased with his coat and the pale orchid shirt that matched his eyes. Aya-chan had added two or three more dresses and had been told she would need the strange contraption to wear the ‘new crinolines.’ Regretfully she’d added the thing and the huge hoop it was connected to together with layers of petticoats. 

The whole mess would be delivered by Carter’s clerk to their hotel rooms. With Zeshin there to accept the stuff there wasn’t any worry that it would come up missing. 

All they needed to take was the cloth intended for Brad’s clothing along with Yohji’s. 

“Schu, you can deal with the tailor,” Aya said. “I’ve still got a couple of hundred dollars but I’m sick of shops and shopkeepers for now.” 

“No problem,” Schuldig said. “I’ll be interested to see if the tailor has the same problems that Carter does.” 

When they reached the tailor shop the sign painted on the window proclaimed, Adolph Mueller, Tailor in big bold lettering. 

“Excellent!” Schuldig exclaimed. “A countryman! Let’s see what he has to say for himself.” 

He pushed open the door and entered, the rest following him in out of interest. 

The shop’s front room consisted of a counter and several pattern books perched on the well polished surface along with a mirror. 

A young red-haired boy of about twelve stood behind the counter, wide blue eyes taking in the group of strangers. “Vater! Bitte gekommen. Wir haben Kunden.”** 

A tall, elegant sandy-haired man came out of the back room. “Hans, how often must I tell you to speak in English? Please excuse my son, gentlemen, he’s a little slow. What can I do for you?” 

Schuldig smiled. “No problem, Herr Mueller. It is good to hear my own language again. My rather tall friend here needs a shirt and our employer a suit and shirt. We’ve brought the cloth as you can see.” 

Yohji smiled at the boy who was staring wide-eyed at the gun on his hip. 

The tailor nodded, “Yes, I can do that, but, tell me with whom are you employed? I would need the gentleman’s measurements.” 

“Our employer is Mr Crawford and his measurements are written on this piece of paper,” Schuldig said, handing over a scrap of paper to Mueller. “Those are exact and were taken only a few days ago.” 

Or a century or so in the future. Made no difference. Brad was still tall and lean. 

The tailor took the paper and studied the measurements, “A big fellow, this employer of yours. Yes, I can make him a suit and shirt. Now we must discuss style. He is a man of means, your Mr. Crawford?” 

Schuldig thought about the Armani and Prada suits that Brad usually wore and smirked. “Yes, very wealthy, very stylish and used only to the best.” As he spoke he was scanning the minds around him. 

Aya, bless him, was wondering if everyone in this godforsaken place was so nosey while Mueller was hoping that Crawford would be pleased enough to keep coming back. Most of the miners didn’t wear fancy suits and he was being squeezed dry by Everette and his cronies. 

Yohji was wondering if he could find a little time to spend alone with Aya. He wanted to hold his lover but he was concerned that they’d never get another minute alone now that they were sharing a room with both Kai and the miserable brat. 

The flare of jealous anger that came off of the blond empath was almost as strong as a physical blow, one that twisted in the blond’s guts like a knife. 

Ken was wondering what Nagi would taste like with honey poured over him, but the only indication of his wayward thoughts was a faint smile. 

Farfarello was thinking of all the fun he’d have with Schuldig later. Fun that involved playing ‘hide the knife of flesh’ until the German was begging for an end to the game. 

Oddly the smile on his face was almost the mirror image of the one Ken was wearing. 

Schuldig shook his head and left Nagi, Kai and Aya-chan strictly alone. He didn’t want to know any more. Mueller’s thoughts had been illuminating though. He turned his attention back to the business in hand. 

“When could you have it ready?” 

“I’ll get right on it. We should have it done in about four days. Sooner if your Mr. Crawford is willing to pay a small fee for the rush. Oh, and we’ll still need a fitting and he’ll need to come and select the style of course.” 

“I’m sure he’ll pay the extra fee,” Schuldig said soothingly, “I’ll arrange for him to call by as soon as is possible. Probably some time tomorrow if that’s okay?” 

When Mueller nodded his agreement Schuldig smiled and handed over the cloth. “You’ll need to measure my friend for a shirt in that dark green material,” he said and nudged Yohji forward. 

Mueller studied the lanky blond and nodded, “With your colouring and eyes this shade will draw the eyes of all the ladies, ja.” 

Yohji looked pointedly at Aya, “I suppose it might.” 

Aya, also pointedly, turned his back to stare out of the window. What the hell was he going to do about the tangled mess his emotional life had become? A loud altercation drew his attention and he watched as a little Chinese man was dragged out of a laundry across the street and flung down in a patch of horse shit. 

“What do you mean, you can’t pay?” 

“Sorry, very sorry, but so few wash clothes here.” 

A booted foot caught the man in the ribs and he keeled over only to receive a thorough beating at the hands of the men tormenting him. 

The commotion on the street caught Ken’s attention. When he saw what was going on he took a step toward the door. 

A hand on his shoulder stopped him, Farfarello leaning close to the ex-soccer player’s ear. “Not our business. Not until we’re told, understood?” 

Ken tensed as the men continued to beat the hapless Chinese man. 

Farfarello’s fingers tightened, “Let it go, Hidaka. For now, let it go.” 

Yohji looked at the tailor, “Seems like this town’s got some rough customers in it. Mind telling us who those guys are?” 

“You really don’t want to know,” Mueller said, “but if your employer is intending to go into business here, he will come across them sooner or later.” 

“Associates of Mr Everette are they?” Aya asked, sighing as the men finally left the Chinese laundry owner lying motionless and bloody in the street. 

“Please, you didn’t hear it from me…” There was a decided whine in Mueller’s voice. 

“Not a word,” Schuldig assured him in German. “Don’t worry, Herr Mueller.” 

Farfarello let Ken go and the Weiss walked out the door, going to the injured man lying in the filth of the street. 

Raising one eyebrow at Aya, Yohji followed Ken out the door. 

“I’m going for a walk,” the Irishman said in Japanese, “to do a bit of window shopping just to see where they go next.” He grinned at Schuldig, “I’m sure our Vater will want a bit of recon info on our competition.” 

*Good idea* 

The Chinese man was coming to his senses slowly and he brightened considerably when he saw Ken and Nagi and started talking in swift Mandarin. 

“I’m sorry,” Aya said, thinking quickly, “we were born in America. We never learned Chinese.” 

“I thank you, merely, honourable sirs.” 

_For what,_ Kai wondered, _we stood and watched this happen to you._ Even though he knew why that had to be it still bothered him. And yet, had he stayed with the Yakuza, he would probably have been acting like the men who’d done this. It was very confusing. 

Yohji propped his lean body against one of the roof supports in front of the tailor shop. He put on his sunglasses, a pair with gold frames and rose tinted lenses while Mueller peered uneasily out of the door. 

“I have not taken your measurements sir. In order to make your shirt I’ll need them.” 

Nodding the blond stepped back into the shop, but he kept his eyes on what was happening on the street. 

“Well I can speak a bit of Cantonese,” Ken admitted softly, “but not much and probably badly.” He gently helped the man to his feet. “Should we send for a doctor for you?” 

Ken’s admission gave Aya an idea. If people heard them speaking in Japanese, they could claim to be from the Hong Kong area and thus not speak Mandarin. The Chinese in the area might see through it but they appeared to be right at the bottom of the local pecking order anyway. 

“No, thank you. I be good with Chinese medicine.” He bowed as low as he was able and scurried back to his laundry. 

“We need to give that man some custom so that he can give those bastards something rather than getting another beating,” Nagi said. 

“No,” Schuldig argued, “we need to get rid of the bastards.” 

“I like both ideas,” Yohji said as he rejoined them, his sunglasses perched low on his nose so he wasn’t even looking through the lenses. Not at the moment anyway. 

“So do I,” Ken agreed, his fist flexing as if he was extending the claws on his bugnucks. “But I like the second one best.” 

“We do nothing until we know exactly who, and how many we’re up against,” Aya decided. His eyes narrowed. “But then… I agree, this would be a far better place without them. If we’re all done, let’s go back to the hotel and let Crawford know what he hasn’t already seen!” 

Schuldig chuckled at that. “He will still need the details, Aya,” he said. He would have said more but a quick peek at Yohji’s mind warned that now was not the time to tease Aya about either Crawford or Zeshin. 

Yohji started down the street, not even bothering to wait for the others. 

Ken stepped closer to Aya, “It’s none of my business... Scratch that, it is because whatever’s going on between you and Yohji needs to be resolved and fast because both of you being pissy bastards is getting on my nerves.” 

“You were right the first time, it is none of your business,” Aya retorted with a glare. 

“Go fuck yourself, Aya,” Ken muttered and stalked away from the redhead to walk with Nagi. 

Yohji turned, walking backward he just smiled slightly at Aya as if agreeing with Ken, then turned back around and continued to walk toward the hotel. 

Aya remained silent but he did have the sense to realise that things could not continue as they were. No wonder Crawford had said they would talk later. The bastard must have foreseen most of this. 

They arrived at the hotel without incident to find Brad seated in the hotel dining area, a cup of steaming coffee in front of him, and a local newspaper neatly folded, commuter style, for reading in his hand. 

*Trouble in paradise, Vater. Farf’s doing recon on some thugs who work for a Mr Everette and you need to sort Fujimiya out. Even Hidaka has started sniping at him.* 

*I have already informed Abyssinian that he and I will be having a talk. As to Mr. Everette and his gang, we’re going to need to sort them out soon. They’re making a nuisance of themselves and we can’t have anyone standing in our way.* 

Brad smirked, *They’re bad for business.* 

Schuldig nodded his understanding. *Glad to hear it, Vater, although one of them bears watching. His mind is shielded but he’s a dangerous sonofabitch. Took a bit of an interest in Fujimiya‘s sister, too.* 

Crawford raised an eyebrow, *Did he now? That’s a man who is either going to find out all about katanas, or have a very unpleasant encounter with the Shanghai Kid.* 

Yohji dropped himself into a seat and stretched long legs out, crossing them at the ankles, “Coffee sounds like a good idea.” 

The Schwarz leader regarded the blond coolly, “What else sounds like a good idea to you?” 

“Oh, I don’t know...” All pretence of being relaxed vanished as Yohji leaned forward in the seat, steepling his fingers in front of his lips and meeting Brad’s gaze. “Maybe knocking a few of your teeth out or beating Zeshin within a centimetre of his life.” 

At this point Aya stormed up the stairs to his room. There was the distant sound of the door slamming. 

“Excuse me,” Aya-chan said, uncomfortably and also headed for the stairs. 

“I would leave your brother alone if I were you,” Schuldig warned her. She turned and gave the German a bright smile. 

“Oh, I know all about Ran’s temper,” she said with a hint of amusement, “and have no intention of going anywhere near him until he calms down. I was actually going to try and figure out that weird contraption I had to buy.” 

Ken motioned to Nagi, “Let’s get out of the crossfire, huh?” 

Nagi nodded and the two of them disappeared up the stairs. 

Crawford studied the blond across the table from him, “And do you think that is the way to get him back?” 

Yohji pulled out a cigarette and lit it, “No, but it might make me feel a little better.” 

“Would it?’ Crawford asked. “Or would it only serve to make him even madder at you the way your threats just now did?” 

“He’s pissed because he’s feeling guilty for a few things, Crawford. I think I know him better than you, or he, realizes.” 

*Schuldig, I take it things are degenerating more rapidly between Fujimiya and Kudoh than I’d anticipated.* 

*I hadn’t realised they’d got this bad. Aya’s been his normal self for most of the morning so Yohji’s picking up on something that I can’t read.* 

*Yes. He’s been around the rest of Weiss for a long time. His empathy, while not developed, does read his team mate’s moods. Aya feels trapped into the relationship with him now because he has realized that Yohji isn’t right for him and never will be. 

*And if you want to know a little secret, Yohji’s known it all along but loves the stubborn bitch so much he was willing to try and meet him half way. Unfortunately, it’s not in our best interest to let that happen.* 

Crawford adjusted his glasses, “You did initially push him toward Zeshin, and now you’re going to fault him for wanting what you showed to him. It seems to me that you set yourself up for this, Kudoh.” 

Yohji took a long drag off his cigarette, and exhaled slowly. “I love him, and I think he loves me, but we’re fire and ice. We don’t and can’t mix.” 

“You’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” Brad stated. 

“Not really. If I was smart, I’d have never told him I loved him and we wouldn’t be going through all this melodramatic bullshit now. I’d be happily chasing women still and he could do as he fucking well pleases.” Yohji studied his cigarette thoughtfully, “Which is what he’s going to do anyway. There’s no sense fighting for what was never mine in the first place, is there?” 

The blond stood, “I’m going for a walk.” 

Brad watched Yohji leave then turned to Schuldig, “Something has happened to him. I don’t know what, but he’s... different somehow.” 

“He’s been like that nearly all morning,” Schuldig said as he sat down in Yohji’s vacated seat. “It may be that he’s been thinking about the little talk we had back in Singapore or it might be something that happened before they came to breakfast. Either way, it helps you, doesn’t it?” 

“Yes. But I already know that Aya will be mine if I’m patient enough.” He lowered his gaze to the newspaper, “I out waited the Elders, Abyssinian will be a piece of cake.” 

Meanwhile, Aya found Zeshin staring at him as he slammed the bedroom door. “Not a word,” he warned, “not one fucking word!” 

Zeshin stared wide eyed at Aya, not sure what he’d done wrong, but wisely did as he was told. 

Aya paced, trying to get his thoughts into some semblance of order. Yohji had been sniping all morning, so much so that even Ken had noticed, Everette’s henchmen were another worry and now, when he needed peace and quiet in which to think he was faced with yet another of his problems. 

What the hell was he going to do about Zeshin? He knew exactly what he wanted to do which was to tear the clothes off the boy, throw him down on the bed and make him beg for mercy. But that would not be the wisest of moves if he wanted to keep Zeshin alive. 

Damn Yohji for being so possessive and needy, damn Crawford for putting stupid ideas into his head and damn Zeshin for being so much what he wanted right now. 

He snarled and stalked over to the window, just in time to see Yohji leave the building. Now where the hell was the fool going? 

Said fool was heading directly for the saloon. 

Aya watched him push open the swing doors to the saloon and sighed. Only midday and already he needed a drink. He sighed before turning to stare at Zeshin. 

Big amber eyes gazed up questioningly. 

Something in Aya snapped and growling he lunged across the room and grabbed the boy. He needed this too badly to resist any further. 

Zeshin yelped and pressed his hands to Aya’s chest, his eyes gone huge and full of confusion. 

Aya grabbed his wrists and pinned his hands behind his back before swooping in to kiss him savagely. 

The boy froze, heart racing, breath coming in panting gasps as he struggled to breathe under the onslaught of the older man’s mouth. 

“Mine,” Aya growled when he came up for air, “you’re mine.” 

“Yours, Fujimiya-san,” the boy stated softly, his eyes half veiled by silver tipped lashes. “Only yours.” 

Zeshin’s reaction calmed Aya somewhat. At least he wasn’t arguing. He rewarded Zeshin with a smile as he pushed and prodded him towards the bed. 

The boy backed up until his knees hit the edge of the mattress. His head lowered, “What does Fujimiya-san desire this boy to do?” His voice was soft, respectful, a husky purr. 

And that voice went straight to Aya’s groin, his cock springing up immediately. What did he want? So many options, all of them appealing but he would make it easy on the boy this first time. “Strip,” he said and let Zeshin’s hands go so he could do just that. 

Nervous and unaccustomed to the older man’s aggression-- Mamoru had never been like this-- Zeshin reached up to unbutton his shirt. To his credit he wasn’t visibly shaking, but there was a bit of hesitation in his movements. 

“What about Kudoh-san?” he asked. “I... don’t want him mad at me.” 

“I’ll worry about Yohji.” Aya leaned forward for another kiss, this one a little more gentle than the last. When he pulled away he added, “I won’t let him harm you.” 

The boy met Aya’s gaze, “I’m not afraid Kudoh will hurt me. But I don’t want to have to hurt him over this either.” Zeshin dropped his shirt and started on the button of his pants. He gave Aya a measuring look, “Or is that what you really want. For us to fight over you?” 

Aya actually thought about that question. Was it what he wanted? No, not really. Yohji had to come to terms with the fact that, while he might love him, he was basically straight while he was wholly gay. 

“You will not hurt him anymore than he will hurt you. He needs to realise that I’m not really what he needs, although he might think I’m what he wants.” 

Zeshin stepped out of his pants and underwear and lowered his head. “And am I really what you want?” he questioned, his hair falling forward to nearly hide his face. 

A low growl was the only answer Aya was capable of. The boy was beautiful and his and that was precisely what he wanted and even needed. None of the demands for dominion that Yohji was capable of, none of the complications that Crawford introduced. Just sheer physical pleasure and Zeshin’s desire to please. “Yes,” he managed through the growl. 

“What if I don’t want you?” the boy asked. There was an odd note in his voice, and his breathing was a bit more rapid than the situation warranted. “Will you still take what you want?” 

His words gave Aya pause. Yes, he would take what he wanted but… was he actually capable of rape? He could kill easily enough but rape was somehow different, more personal and perhaps even more destructive. 

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t want me? If that’s the case then put your clothes back on now. I won’t force you. But, if you do decide you want me then it will be on my terms after today.” 

“I thought I belonged to you,” Zeshin murmured, the faint quaver in his voice more pronounced. “I thought I was yours and you’d do what you wanted with me, even if I didn’t want you.” 

Amber eyes regarded him from behind the silver fall of hair. “If I belong to you, then I don’t have any choice and I don’t have any say in what you do with me. Isn’t that really what you want?” 

Zeshin looked away, head dropping, “I don’t want a choice, Fujimiya-san. I only want to do whatever will please you,” he admitted before he sank to his knees at Aya’s feet, head bowed. 

Aya nodded to himself. Zeshin was almost precisely what he wanted. No worrying about who was in charge, no wanting what he couldn’t have. He might desire a little more spirit but if the boy really wanted to please him he would soon discover that for himself. 

He reached out and tousled the silky hair before grabbing a handful of it and tilting the boy’s head for another searing kiss. He could get addicted to this meek compliance and yet… Kami-sama was he never satisfied? 

“I want… I want things that I can’t even put into words,” he admitted quietly. 

“Then don’t talk, show me,” the boy said before he gently pressed his mouth to Aya’s, his arms slipping around the older man in a tentative embrace. 

Yes! That was it! The boy was kissing and holding him in return, acting as if he actually wanted him. He pulled him closer and whispered in his ear, “Now undress me.” 

Zeshin’s amber eyes glittered as he backed slightly away and lowered his head to the buttons on Aya’s shirt. Slowly, one by one, he undid them with nothing more than his mouth. As Aya’s chest was revealed the boy would stop and nuzzle his way into the shirt to kiss the skin he’d just uncovered. 

Aya leaned back on his elbows, losing himself in the sensations that were being produced in his body. He was now so hard it was almost painful and he moaned aloud, showing his appreciation. 

Zeshin didn’t stop when he ran out of shirt. Still without using his hands he unbuttoned Aya’s pants and pulled the zipper down, his tongue darting out to tease exposed skin. 

When he’d gone as far as he could, Zeshin sat back and looked at the older man, his gaze hot with lust. He gripped Aya’s shirt and shoved it down the man’s arms, all but trapping him in his own clothing before he started to lave his tongue delicately over Aya’s pale chest. 

There was more that Aya wanted to do before he came so he told Zeshin to stop and freed himself of his clothing. 

“On the bed,” he rasped out. 

Zeshin offered Aya a too knowing smile and gracefully crawled onto the bed, his ass presented invitingly to the older man for a moment before he turned around and knelt in the middle of the bed. 

Aya took off his boots and swung his feet onto the bed before reaching for Zeshin. He pushed the boy back onto the bed until he was lying on his back. Then he pinned his wrists to the pillow with one hand while toying with his nipples with the other. He bent his head to lave the sensitised buds with his tongue before blowing warm air across them. 

Zeshin’s eyes closed and he moaned, body writhing beneath the teasing pleasure Aya’s tongue was sending through his flesh. He was hard, painfully hard and he wanted more. “Please....” he all but purred. 

Sure now of the boy’s full co-operation, Aya let go of his wrists and rested his hands on Zeshin’s hips instead. “Please what?” he asked, voice low with the weight of his own lust. 

“Please fuck me Fujimiya-san. Please.” 

Oh there was no doubt of that, not now. He’d wanted this for too long, ever since he’d first kissed Zeshin. He looked about for something to use as lube. There was a bottle of massage oil sitting strategically placed on the table beside the bed. He grabbed it and opened it, cocking a quizzical eyebrow at Zeshin as he did so. 

“Massage oil?” 

Zeshin looked away, “It’s not mine, it belongs to Kudoh-san. I... I think he was hoping to use it with you.” 

Aya sighed. “I see,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to use the stuff now but there was nothing else and he was too far gone to get up and search the room. He would have to deal with Yohji later, now… He opened the bottle and spread a generous amount of the viscous oil on his fingers. 

He reached down between Zeshin’s legs and swirled his coated fingers round the boys entrance until the tight ring of muscle relaxed then he slipped one into the constricting heat that was waiting for it. 

Zeshin whimpered, “Fuck me. I don’t need anything but your cock now. Please.” He was begging, his eyes bright with desire as he looked up at the man above him. 

This was right. It was how it should be. Fujimiya-san was... was what? His friend? His lover? No. Neither of those was right. Fujimiya was his master. His owner. 

“I belong only to you, Abyssinian.” 

The whispered words affected Aya more than he could even admit to himself. He had never owned another person before and he knew instinctively that it was not an easy option, and he would have to make the decisions for both of them. Yet, somehow he knew it was exactly what he wanted, what he needed. He growled softly and added another finger, stretching and readying the boy, his boy. 

“You’ll take what I choose to give you.” 

A soft cry of desperate need was wrenched from Zeshin as the fingers invaded him. They were merciless, teasing, inadequate to answer the raging need that threatened to steal all power of reason from him. 

“I want you. This boy wants your cock inside him. Please....” he hesitated for a heartbeat then said it, “Master.” 

That one word was enough to make Aya withdraw his fingers and coat his cock with the oil. He positioned himself, urging Zeshin to lift his legs until they were resting round his waist then he pushed into his boy with one long, powerful thrust. 

Zeshin gasped, his body accepting the penetration, his reaction one of pleasure not pain. He dared caress his master’s arms and shoulders, touching the man’s pale skin. “Yes... yes please.” 

Aya began to move then, withdrawing almost completely only to plunge in once again, Zeshin’s tentative caresses spurring him on. He leaned forward, kissing his boy, wanting to feel contact in as many places as he could. 

Zeshin eagerly responded to the kiss, his body already riding on the rising wave of ecstasy his lover was creating in him. His hands stroked across Aya’s chest and down his belly, fingers tracing the rippling abs as the man moved. 

Aya’s thrusts became stronger, faster and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. He reached between their bodies to stroke Zeshin’s cock before gripping it and pumping in time to his thrusts. 

The pale haired boy moaned, body rocking in time with Aya, the passions taking control making him growl softly and grip his lover’s arms. 

“So good... Aya-san. So very, very good,” he moaned. 

Aya growled in response, surprised at the strong reactions Zeshin was eliciting in him. He felt possessive yet protective at the same time and suddenly got an insight into the way Yohji might have been viewing him. Thrusting those thoughts aside, he lost himself in sensation once again until his world was full of the boy in his arms. How could Takatori have let this go? 

Growling again at that thought he thrust even harder and faster until he felt his balls tighten in readiness. 

Zeshin’s breathing was harsh, the boy’s head turning from side to side as his hands clenched the older man’s arms. “Aya-san!” he cried out as his hot cum spattered his lover’s hand and his own heaving belly. 

The clench around his cock as Zeshin came was enough to send Aya over the edge and he came with a harsh cry which just happened to be the pale boy’s name. 

Zeshin reached up and gripped Aya’s shoulders, trying to pull his lover down on top of him, wanting the contact of the older man’s body, wanting to be held down, wanting things he didn’t fully understand. 

Wanting Aya. 

Aya collapsed against him, breathing hard and pinning him with the warmth of his sweat-soaked body. One hand stroked down his side, caressingly, possessively. 

Slim hands moved over Aya’s body, touching, worshipping every curve of muscle, every inch of flesh and bone he could reach. He kissed gently along Aya’s shoulder and collar bone and along the man’s jaw, lips touching the curve of Aya’s ear, the boy’s breath warm on the assassin’s damp skin. 

Finally recovering, Aya pulled out and rolled over onto his side. Some instinct he didn’t fully comprehend made him reach out and take Zeshin in his arms. He knew that one day he would want to take things further, would want to restrain, inflict pain/pleasure, use toys but for now he was surprisingly content. 

The boy sighed and snuggled close to the older killer, eyes drifting closed. He knew it wouldn’t stay like this. How or why he didn’t know but he was as sure of it as he was that the sun would rise in the morning. Aya wanted more than this from him. He’d seen it in the older man’s eyes. Hunger. A predator that needed it’s prey as surely as the man needed air and food to survive. 

He shivered with the knowledge, recalling how the man had pinned him to the bed. Wanting... more. Much more. 

But right now that didn’t matter. The only thing that was important was that he was with his master. He allowed the post orgasmic fog to slide into his mind and take away everything.


	4. Barrel of a Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Yohji stood at the counter of the saloon, smoking a cigarillo, his third glass of whiskey on the scarred wood in front of him. He was very aware of the looks he was getting, could feel the weight of eyes on his back. 

Unfriendly eyes set in rugged sun-weathered faces. Ugly men with ugly souls. 

Dark beasts. He knew the feel. 

So long as they stayed where they were they were safe. Not that they saw any threat in him. No. To them he was just a soft faced drifter, an easterner come looking for gold. A fool. 

He wasn’t an easterner in the sense they meant, and he’d killed more men than all of them put together. 

Kai had faced a dilemma after Aya’s little burst of temper. Did he hang about in the hotel restaurant while Crawford communed silently with Schuldig or conducted business, did he go upstairs and brave a pissed off redhead or did he take a third option? Deciding he needed a beer after the events of the morning, he dumped his packages with the hotel desk and headed for the saloon. 

As soon as he entered the place all conversation ceased and all eyes turned to stare at him. Trying to appear less intimidated than he actually felt, he made his way across to the bar. Luckily Yohji was there and he took the space next to his and ordered a beer. 

The blond cast a sideward glance at Kai from the corner of his eye. “If Aya sent you here, I don’t want to hear the message right now. If not, that’s fine,” Yohji stated just loud enough for Kai to hear him. He was speaking English, his accent suppressed through careful enunciation of each word. It made him sound far more drunk than he was. 

“I came here to avoid Aya,” Kai said in the same language. “He was obviously in a vile mood after you sniped at him so I wasn’t prepared to follow him upstairs to our room. Crawford probably doesn’t want me around right now so I came here.” He shrugged. 

“Don’t blame his mood on me. Or rather, don’t blame the fact he’s suffering from guilt over what he knows he’s going to do to me,” Yohji remarked as he picked up his drink and downed the rest. 

He motioned to the bartender and the man refilled the glass without a comment. 

“Either way, keeping your distance from him is a good idea. He tends to lash out at everyone when he’s in a pissy mood.” 

“I don’t remember blaming you,” Kai said mildly. “All I know is that Zeshin was upstairs guarding our stuff and will probably take the brunt of his temper. But then you don’t care about that, do you?” 

Yohji’s voice dropped even lower as he replied in Japanese, “Don’t worry about him. The only thing Zeshin is going to _take_ is Abyssinian’s cock up his ass.” 

Kai didn’t dignify that with a reply in any language. If what Yohji said was true then he only had himself to blame really what with the way he’d reacted whilst around Aya that morning. It would have been enough to push anyone away. 

He took a long swallow of his beer and sighed slightly. They had seemed to be melding into one large team and now this had happened and he wasn’t sure where that would leave any of them. 

“Sorry,” Yohji told the teen. “I shouldn’t have said that, true or not.” He stared down at the drink on the bar, “It’s between the two of us, or well... I guess it’s really between Aya and Zeshin now.” He picked up his drink and took a swallow, “It’s my fault. I should never have told him how I felt and none of this would be happening.” 

The rest of the whiskey vanished into the blond’s mouth. “But that’s over now and he can do what he wants, just like I can.” 

Kai sighed. “I don’t think it’s a question of want,” he said. “I think it’s a question of need and… perhaps familiarity. I guess until Zeshin and I came along you were all each other had. He must care about you or he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did.” He took another swallow of beer. “Aww hell! Do all assassins become as fucked up as you two have?” 

Yohji regarded the boy for a moment before saying, “I see the beer goes straight to your mouth.” 

There was no animosity in the tone he used. None. 

“We were both fucked up before we became what we are, or were.” Yohji frowned, “And yeah, we thought we were the last and that was a lie. With that as the basis of our relationship, in part, it was doomed from the start.” He smiled, the expression bittersweet, “A fact which I was cognizant of, even if Aya wasn’t. 

“But you know I wouldn’t trade the few moments I had with him for anything. They are something I’ll always remember, those brief moments of bliss in his arms.” 

Kai shook his head. “It’s not the beer,” he said wryly. “I’ve always been like this, speaking before thinking. But what you say makes sense. I think we were all fucked up or fucked over. For me it was join Kritiker or face many years of prison with members of rival clans. I would have survived all of a week if I was lucky! If I was unlucky, well you know what would have happened.” 

He drank more beer obviously deep in thought. “You know something,” he said eventually, “I don’t remember actually thinking of the Yakuza as a career option when I was a kid in school. It was just circumstances.” 

He shrugged again and shut up, apart from ordering a second beer. He didn’t want to say anything about Yohji’s doomed relationship with Aya. Didn’t want to pry or hurt the blond assassin’s feelings even further even though he wondered about the bliss. It wasn’t something he’d ever experienced. 

“Yeah. I didn’t consider being a paid murderer as a career option. Those just aren’t the type of jobs you’d wake up one morning and say, ‘Hey, I know, I’ll just join the Yakuza or being an assassin is my ideal job.’ Because, really, most people plan to do other things with their lives.” 

“Kritiker trapped you too?” Kai asked. His tone was slightly bitter. 

“No. Not exactly. I.... lost a piece of myself when Asuka died. I wanted to get even with the people who’d taken her from me. Takatori’s infamous dark beasts, men who exploited and murdered women.” He sighed. “They caught me when I was mentally vulnerable, or just too lost to care about what their offer would mean long term. 

“In the long run it wouldn’t have mattered. I don’t like to kill, per se, but I’ve discovered that I’m pretty damned good at it.” He cast a sidelong glance behind them, his gaze going hard. “Unfortunately a couple of complete fools are about to discover that fact to their own sorrow.” 

He’d no more than said that when a pair of the men who’d been eyeing him got to their feet and sauntered in their direction. 

“If you don’t want to reveal your capabilities, don’t. I can handle these two idiots alone.” 

“I’ve no objection to revealing what I’m capable of,” Kai said, “but I’ll only interfere if needed.” He had the intelligence to realise that Yohji needed to vent his frustration on someone and that these two apes would do nicely. 

“I think it’s in our best interest not to let on that almost all of us are perfectly capable of making corpses,” the blond replied softly as he turned to face the men, a laconic smile on his lips. 

“Gentlemen, do yourselves a favour and forget what you came over here to attempt.” 

The man with his gun slung low on his hip smiled icily at Yohji. “Well I don’t think we can do that, considering how much you’re stinking up the place.” 

Yohji regarded the man with cool jade eyes, “It’s called soap and water. I’m sure you’ve never heard of those things, but believe me, using them increases your popularity with the ladies.” 

Behind him Kai sniggered at the remark but the men ignored him, focusing on the blond. 

“I don’t think you understood me, Chink, your sort ain’t welcome in here.” 

Yohji’s smile never wavered, “How many blond Chinks have you seen?” he asked patiently. “I’m not Chinese.” He casually leaned back against the bar. “Why don’t you boys run along and play somewhere else. You’re spoiling my morning.” 

“I don’t care if you’re born and bred American, you still ain’t welcome, boy.” 

“That’s too bad. I like it here, and the bartender seems to like my money just fine. Seems we’ve got ourselves a dilemma here, boys. One that might be best settled out on the street rather than in here where it will make a mess. 

“I’d hate to spill your blood all over the nice clean floor.” Not that the floor was really all that clean, but it wasn’t blood soaked either. 

“I think this boy means to take us both on, Joe,” the quiet man of the pair remarked. “Guess he don’t know who we are.” 

“You mean who you think you are?” Yohji replied knowing that was likely to piss both men off. 

“Okay, that does it,” Joe yelled, “outside, boy, right now.” 

His partner just glowered menacingly at Yohji, but the blond didn’t show any reaction or fear of them which puzzled the quiet man. Not enough for him to think they were in any trouble, but the tall man did seem a bit too calm for someone about to engage in a deadly gunfight against two opponents. 

Kai swallowed his beer down, prepared to back Yohji just in case these two goons didn’t know the meaning of fair play. 

Yohji glanced at the bartender, “You might want to send for the local undertaker. He’s about to have work,” then he strolled casually for the swinging doors of the saloon. 

Kai followed the two gunmen as they followed Yohji. 

In the hotel, Schuldig’s head suddenly came up from the contemplation of his coffee and Crawford, who was still calmly reading his paper. 

*I think Yohji’s got a point to prove.* 

*Yes, right on time too. Shall we go and play audience? If we hurry we can get there before they exit the saloon,* Crawford replied as he abandoned both paper, coffee and the remains of his breakfast all but running for the door. 

Schuldig followed him quickly, careful not to use his enhanced speed. No point in terrorising the other hotel guests. He reached the street just as Yohji exited the saloon followed by two men with Kai playing sheepdog behind them. He smirked. The ex Yakuza was proving to be quite an asset. 

As they stepped outside Yohji noticed Crawford and Schuldig standing beside the hotel doors. He gave the man a nod which Brad returned, adding, “I told you to stay out of trouble.” 

“This isn’t my idea, boss.” 

“It never is,” Brad replied using a passably believable tone of irritation he didn’t really feel. It was all for show. His words, the fight the assassin was about to engage in. It would serve to add to their reputation, one that they needed to establish quickly if they were to survive in this place and time. 

He regarded the pair of ragged men following the blond killer, “I’ll see that you’re decently buried, never fear gentlemen. I always make sure his victims are taken care of.” 

The quiet man glanced at his partner, the first touch of worry showing in his watery blue eyes. 

Schuldig leaned against the hotel wall, showing all the indications of a man out to watch a master at work. His blue eyes remained watchful however. 

Kai stood in front of the saloon doors, effectively preventing any escape for the men in that direction. 

Joe marched out to the middle of the street, arrogant in his own belief that he was better than any immigrant scum. The quiet man followed him but more slowly as Crawford’s words sank in. Seemingly the guy Joe had picked on was no amateur. 

Yohji took his place in the street, his expression blank, almost bored. His first gunfight, but killing was a game he knew. One these two usually only engaged in when they thought they were sure winners while the blond they faced was used to fighting against bad odds and in adverse conditions. 

After facing the horror that Takatori Masafumi had turned himself into, much less Schwarz and the Elders of Esset, everything else had become too commonplace to even ruffle his nerves. 

Besides, there’d been a time when he’d held all the records for the High Noon gunslinger game at the arcade he had hung out in as a high school student. How much different could this be? 

Joe and his partner faced off against him and it was obvious that the loudmouth was itching for a fight. His finger was twitching near his holster. He gazed at Yohji, looking for some show of fear, even a twitch would do. There was nothing and he finally began to wonder if he’d done the right thing. No going back now. His hand moved to his gun. 

Yohji’s lightning reflexes reacted to the barely perceived motion the blond drawing his gun in a blur of movement that ended in two closely spaced gunshots. 

Both men keeled over, blood pumping from their chests. Kai crouched down by their sides, checking that they were dead. Then he looked up to see Schuldig and Crawford grinning. He sighed. Obviously something else that was supposed to happen. He rose to his feet just as a crowd began to gather, drawn by the sound of gunshots. 

Yohji casually removed the two spent cartridges from his six-shooter and replaced them with fresh bullets before he stepped back up onto the boardwalk, nodded to Brad, and entered the saloon. 

Crawford’s smirk only grew as he said to Schuldig, *He did that after four shots of whiskey. Not bad. Not bad at all.* 

Ken exited the hotel just in time to see Yohji vanish into the saloon. Noting the pair of dead men in the street he quickly added things up and realized that his team mate had just gunned down the two men. Knowing Yohji the guys probably more than deserved what they’d gotten. It also didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that, the way things were going, they’d have most of the criminals in Sacramento dead or running for their lives by the end of a month. 

Knowing Crawford, that was probably the man’s plan. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the Schwarz leader didn’t care for competition. Any competition that might pose even a minor risk to their safety would be competition that was best eliminated in the most expedient manner possible. 

And with Weiss and Schwarz teamed up, you couldn’t get many more ways of ridding the town of dangerous idiots than that. 

Farfarello joined Ken at the hotel door. “Kudoh?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Ken replied. 

“He’ll need a name now. I’m sure Brad has one in mind.” 

“Name?” 

“Yes, famous gunfighters always had colourful names, so I understand.” 

“Oh.” 

*The Shanghai Kid if it bothers you, Farf. He mentioned it earlier.* Schuldig peeled himself off the wall and smirked at Ken and his lover. *What did you discover? I’m sure Brad’s dying to hear it.* 

*It doesn’t bother me,* Farfarello replied. *I’m not sure Yohji will like that name. Shanghai is in China after all. 

*I discovered that a lot of people are paying for protection from ‘dangerous elements’ in this town. I was followed back to the hotel, but no one approached me. Not this time anyway. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before they make contact with one of us about joining their organization for our own health.* 

*Dumb fucks. If they approach us they must have a death wish like the two heroes in the street did.* 

*I think they’d offer us work with their group first, and when we refuse, they’ll try and eliminate us the operative word being ‘try’ of course.* 

Schuldig thought about the shielded gunman from the store and frowned slightly. *Most will be like those two, good at bullying but crap against real professionals. That gunman from this morning is their only real professional, I think. What I don’t understand is why he feels the need to shield his mind.* 

*Maybe there are others like us that he’s encountered, or maybe it’s a natural barrier, like the one Fujimiya has.* 

*Let’s hope it’s a natural barrier. If there are others like us in the opposition…* He smirked suddenly. *Actually it might make life more interesting.* 

*Speaking of interesting...* Farfarello slipped his arm around Schuldig, *let’s go play hide the flesh knife. I’m bored.* 

Crawford looked at the two cooling bodies in the street with a sense of mild satisfaction. He hadn’t been sure how things would work out with them so far in the past, but it was actually going better than he’d initially anticipated. 

And unless he was badly off, the situation between Aya and Yohji would soon resolve itself, to his satisfaction as well. 

Kai after glancing across the street and seeing no sign of Aya or Zeshin followed Yohji back into the saloon. He was beginning to like the blond assassin now he actually had the time to get to know him better. 

Yohji was back at his spot in front of the bar as if he’d never left. As Kai returned the bartender was just pouring another drink for the ex-Weiss. 

Kai didn’t make the usual fan boy remarks about how great Yohji had been. Instead he simply ordered another beer and let the blond break the silence if he wished. 

“Do you really like that stuff or are you just drinking it to be sociable because I’m drinking?” the blond enquired. 

“It’s not the best beer I’ve ever drunk but it’s not the worst either. I enjoy a beer. I don’t think you’re even tasting that whiskey which might not be a bad thing. I doubt it was distilled in pristine conditions at this time.” 

“I doubt it was distilled. I think they just poured it through a couple of semi-clean socks and bottled it.” He downed half of the latest shot. “My real father was in the Yakuza,” he revealed softly. “I barely remember him. I grew up with my mom and step-father. He was the only father I really knew.” 

“Probably just as well,” Kai said. “Most Yakuza make lousy fathers and even worse husbands. Not that I’m ever likely to be either.” 

“Or Yakuza for that matter,” Yohji remarked. “We’re hundreds of miles away from Japan which is still in isolation mode right now. Just as well we aren’t there really, only a couple of us even look full Japanese, and we’d have a hell of a time explaining Schuldig and Brad, much less Aya and I with our hair and eyes.” 

“And yet Aya is fully Japanese, isn’t he? But I take your point. I think this place might just work out for us… for a while at least. Aren’t you supposed to hone your power while here? Mine seems to happen whatever I do.” He took another swallow of his beer as he wondered what it was like to have a really strong power like most of the others did. 

“Yeah, so am I as far as I know.” He shrugged, “And that’s the plan according to Crawford, not that anyone’s talked to me about this training stuff we’re supposed to be doing.” He finished his latest refill and waved the bartender off when the man would have refilled it again. “Let’s get out of here and find something else to do. There must be something besides drinking, gambling and killing people to amuse us here somewhere.” 

Kai blinked but finished his beer, more than willing to go with Yohji. He wondered what the blond would consider amusing but was happy enough to find out. 

It wasn’t long before Kai had his answer. They were outside a two story establishment that was called The Kitten House. Yohji stared at the sign, shook his head, and entered. 

Kai followed him in but tugged at his sleeve to attract his attention. “Um, Yohji, I’ve never actually been with a woman,” he said in quiet Japanese. 

“Consider it as hands on training,” Yohji told him as he paused in the lobby looking for the madam or whoever was in charge of the place. 

There were a few girls lounging in chairs, most of them in frilly undergarments and too much makeup. A close look showed that they weren’t girls but mature women. They gave the blond knowing smiles, their gazes going to his younger companion. 

Kai wasn’t sure that he wanted hands on training especially with women who looked old enough to be his grandmother! “Actually, I think I might go back to the hotel,” he said. 

Yohji’s hand closed on the boy’s shoulder, “I don’t think so, Kai. Now come on. I’m sure they have younger girls here somewhere. Besides, as you said, you don’t have a clue what to do, and I’m sure these ladies would be more than willing to show you how it all works.” 

“But I don’t want a woman!” Kai was beginning to get desperate. How was he supposed to tell Yohji that he didn’t actually like women in that way? 

Yohji smiled at the women in the lobby and then leaned down to come face to face with the shorter boy. He spoke Japanese as he asked, “So you’d rather be with another man? Is that it?” 

Kai flushed beet red and nodded slowly. There went his friendship with Yohji no doubt. “It’s all I’m used to,” he said, “and these women… they do nothing for me.” 

“I think Kritiker knew about Aya all along and did their best to keep him under wraps by teaming him with other gay men, or ones they thought would cross the line to get him in their beds, like me.” 

“Then they probably knew about me,” Kai said. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way. I’ll see you back at the hotel sometime I guess.” 

“That’s most likely true. But also keep in mind we were all listed as completely expendable by the Takatori. Chances are we were all marked for disposal via Singapura.” 

“Who would also have been expendable. I could kiss Crawford for helping to get us out of there.” 

“He’d probably like it if you did.” The blond commented dryly. 

Kai shook his head. “I don’t think it’s me he wants. I’m just around to make sure he sleeps well.” 

A large woman in a corset and petticoat with a robe thrown over the top approached them. “Do you see anything you like gentlemen?” 

Kai’s eyes widened in horror and he gazed desperately at Yohji in hopes that the blond might rescue him from this legion of old hags. 

Yohji shook his head, “Not this time ladies. The boy here isn’t ready and since I promised my boss to keep an eye on him, I can’t stay. Maybe next time,” he said with a wink as he ushered Kai toward the door. 

Once back on the street Kai heaved a huge sigh of relief and thanked Yohji. 

“You could have stayed though,” he said, “I didn’t want to spoil your fun.” 

The older man shrugged, “I was mostly going in there for a bit of recon work. I wanted to try and find out more about this gang we’re going up against. Whores talk freely with their customers and they love to gossip.” He ruffled Kai’s hair. “I can go later. Probably tonight. I don’t think I want to stay in the same room with Aya. I... don’t trust myself not to do something I’ll regret.” 

He looked left and right down the boardwalk watching the passers by. There were very few women in evidence anywhere, a fact which he’d already noticed and for the first time he found himself wishing he’d paid more attention to American history rather than cinema. 

“Let’s just do a bit of walking and see what’s around. There have to be other saloons and stores somewhere. This is a pretty good sized town. It might be a good idea for us to try and locate a house that Brad can buy, him being the boss and all, he can’t stay in a hotel forever.” 

Kai agreed eagerly, glad that Yohji had taken his flight from such a lack of temptation so well. He was more concerned about Yohji’s remarks about Aya. If the blond couldn’t share the room with them, had to buy a whore every night for somewhere to sleep… 

“You seemed so happy in Japan,” he ventured. “What went wrong?” 

“Two dominant people in one bed don’t work,” Yohji replied. “I thought I could handle it, but he wants things I can’t give him.” He frowned, “He wants to be able to hurt his lovers, and I’m just not into that.” 

Encouraged by Yohji actually answering his question Kai ventured another. “So you’ve just walked away from him?” Or was it the other way round? For himself, he found Aya either terrifying or distant in turn. He couldn’t imagine wanting to sleep with the man despite his beauty. 

“For all intents and purposes, yeah, I’ve walked away. I’m sure we’ll have another discussion about it, but yeah, I know when to give up.” There was undisguised pain in the blond’s voice as he spoke. “I should have known better, but I’ve always been a fool when I’m in love with someone. It comes with the territory.” 

He started walking, “But no more. I’m done with being in love and having a lover. I’ll pay for a bit of fun, but that’s it. I’m through getting my heart shattered.” He pulled a cigarillo out of his pocket and studied it before lighting it with a match and taking a few deep puffs. “Don’t fall in love, Kai. It’s not worth the pain.” 

Kai snorted in mirthless irony. Who exactly was he supposed to fall in love with anyway? Crawford didn’t really want him, Schuldig and Farfarello were already a couple as were Ken and Nagi. That left Aya, Zeshin and Yohji. Aya seemed to have claimed Zen and Yohji was decidedly anti-relationships and therefore dangerous to get too dependent on. 

“I’m not likely to,” he said. _Even though you’re gorgeous._

“You’ll forget and let it happen some day. We all do. Stupid as it is. Even Aya, the ice bitch fell in love, not that it matters. Hell, maybe he only thought he was in love because, like you said, we were the last ones until we found out about all the lies.” 

Yohji paused at a street corner to glance down the board walks in both directions. “We aren’t alone now, so he doesn’t feel the same about me. I was just an anchor. I’d say that was all he was for me, but it would be a lie. I’ve been in love with him almost from the first time I saw him. Stupid Kudoh Yohji, always letting a pretty face sway his emotions, but no more. No more.” 

He gave a sharp, mirthless bark of laughter, “Too bad I didn’t meet you before I told him how I felt. It might have saved me the embarrassment of watching him turn away from me as if I don’t exist.” 

Kai thought it had more to do with Yohji’s inability to share his lover, to let Aya use Zeshin for his baser desires. But then he was beginning to realise that Yohji was a romantic at heart and considered that relationships should be monogamous. 

“I don’t think you were stupid,” he said quietly. “Aya is very beautiful and he must have felt something for you. He doesn’t seem the type to sleep with just anyone.” 

“He is beautiful. So beautiful that when I look at him it breaks my heart to know we aren’t compatible. That’s another reason I don’t want to go back to the hotel. I know what he’s doing, and with whom, and if I go back I’ll do something really moronic that will only make things worse between us than they are. He needs and wants Zeshin, and I’m too fucking jealous of what they share. It’s something I can’t be part of and I resent that fact. I didn’t think I would, but I do.” 

He took another puff from the smoke in his hand, “Shit, he probably does love me, in his own way. But sex between us... well it’s good but it’s not totally satisfying for him, or me.” He gestured both directions, “Which way should we take?” 

Kai glanced up and down the street then pointed left. “That way looks a little more affluent,” he said. 

If it hadn’t been satisfying for Yohji why had he talked about bliss? It was probably best to drop the subject unless the blond wanted to talk about it. “I can’t honestly see Crawford wanting to purchase or rent anything but the best.” 

“Me either. He’s such an arrogant bastard he won’t accept second best, although, with this other gang in town, he might have to settle for that at least for the time being.” 

Kai chuckled softly. “We might well end up with Everette and cronies as neighbours. Now that could come as quite a shock to the pricks.” 

“Wouldn’t that be a lot of fun,” Yohji said. “Speaking of fun, I think we’re being followed.” 

Kai nodded. “About a hundred yards back, two of them. I caught a glimpse of them as we turned the corner.” 

“I think they were involved in beating up that Chinese guy at the laundry. Am I right?” 

“Only caught a quick glimpse of them but I think so. I really don’t like six or seven to one odds against innocent, unarmed people so they stuck in my mind.” 

“Mine, yours and no doubt Ken’s. Probably Farfarello’s too. I get the impression he doesn’t like cowards and that pretty much sums up what I’ve seen of Everette’s gang so far. A bunch of cowards that like sure odds rather than a fair fight.” 

“Except that guy in the store this morning. He’s different. More like us. Dangerous even.” He shook his head trying to get rid of the image of the gunslinger. “So what do we do about ugly and hideous back there?” 

“Ignore them for the time being. If they’re following us they aren’t bothering any innocent citizens. Besides, it’s too soon for us to get into more trouble. We run the risk of gaining their outright animosity too soon otherwise, and I don’t think Crawford is ready for us to go head to head with Everette’s men.” 

Yohji paused to relight his cigarillo which had gone out while they talked. It wasn’t until he glanced up at the shop they’d stopped in front of that he realized it was a land agent. “Well now there’s a coincidence. Think we should stop and talk to Mr. Smith here? Maybe he knows of some houses or land for sale that Crawford might be interested in taking a look at.” 

Kai grinned. “What an excellent idea, Kudoh-san!” Then he laughed out loud. “Who’d have thought this tin pot excuse for a town would have such a place?” 

“I think it’s a given in a tin pot gold town,” Yohji remarked as he pushed the door open and went inside. 

A bespectacled man in a neat business suit glanced up at their entry and frowned slightly. “Good day, gentlemen. What can I do for you?” 

“Our employer sent us regarding any available houses in the neighbourhood,” the blond replied as he exhaled a thin cloud of smoke. “Mr. Crawford has particular tastes, he’s from back East.” 

Yohji smiled, trying to appear as friendly as he could because he knew how these people regarded foreign born people and he couldn’t completely hide his accent the way Aya could. 

“Ah yes, I believe Mr Porter mentioned him to me this morning,” the man said, face clearing. “From what I infer Mr Crawford would be looking for a large property with every modern convenience. I think we can offer him the choice of two such properties. I have the details here somewhere. Ah yes, here they are.” He handed over two pieces of foolscap paper with lists of rooms, square footage and prospects. “I think he’ll find these accurate.” 

Kai took the papers and pocketed them, thanking the man in English. 

Yohji turned an instant before the door opened and a pair of men came in. One was the cool-eyed and mind protected gunslinger, the other was a smaller, more fragile looking fellow with washed out red-gold hair and the bluest eyes Yohji had ever seen. 

“Hello Smith, we’ve come about that parcel of land Mr. Everette was interested in,” the dark haired gunslinger commented, eyeing Yohji in a way that told the blond killer that the man knew about the gunfight in the street. 

For the first time Yohji actually wished one of the members of Schwarz were standing at his back because something about the pair was raising the hair at the nape of his neck the way the Esset killers used to do when he faced off against them. 

“Yes, yes, I have all the details here and the contract for Mr Everette’s signature.” 

Kai eyed both men warily and immediately shielded his thoughts as best he could. “We should be getting back to Mr Crawford,” he said, all but pushing Yohji out of the door. 

Once on the street he whispered, “The little guy is a talent. Telepath I think.” 

“Crawford will want to know. I think they were trying to read us, and if they couldn’t, then they’re going to be even more interested in us. And not in a good way either. Come on let’s hurry,” Yohji said as he started down the street at a faster pace than they’d used prior to their arrival at the land office.


	5. Won't Back Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Kai managed to keep up despite his shorter legs and it wasn’t long before they were back at the hotel. 

By this time Aya had left the bedroom and was sitting with Crawford and nursing a cup of tea. He glanced up as they entered and immediately asked what was wrong. 

Yohji dropped into a seat, the cigarillo still between his lips. It wasn’t lit and he automatically reached for the matches in his pocket, “Well if the telepath hanging around with our mind-shielded gunslinger is any indication, plenty.” 

Crawford raised an eyebrow, “Interesting,” he commented, “but hardly uncommon for people of talent to find one another. It’s like bits of magnet, they either attract,” he glanced from Yohji to Aya, “or repel one another.” 

Aya glared at Crawford for that remark. “How strong do you think he is?” he asked. 

“I tried to block, but I’m not sure how successful I was. But I did feel him in my mind and I never feel Schuldig so I’d hazard against him being that strong.” 

“That is not necessarily true. Schuldig is a master at slipping in unnoticed. It’s a talent of his that proved very useful to us on more than one occasion. Not all telepaths share his skill at entering a mind so carefully. In fact most lack finesse and are more akin to a bull in the proverbial china shop.” 

While he was answering the Weiss’s comment, he reached out and mentally pinged to get the German’s attention before he used mind speech. He wanted to make totally certain that Schuldig was listening to him, not continuing his playtime with Farfarello. 

*You have competition, Schuldig. There is a telepath here of unknown ability. I foresee an encounter between Schwarz talent and the talent that this Everette has in his employ.* 

*I had a feeling there might be. Do you need us right now?* 

*Not at this very second, but shortly. I believe our competitors are going to put in an appearance fairly soon. More to satisfy curiosity than out of any animosity at this point.* 

*Okay, I’ll round everyone up and get them down there.* 

Yohji was watching Aya, the flare of the match as he relit the cigarillo glittering off the rose tinted glasses perched on his nose. 

Kai nodded and pulled the house specs out of his pocket. “We also went to the real estate agent and got you these.” He handed them to Crawford. 

The American looked over the pair of papers, “One of these will do for our purposes, but I won’t know which one for a few more hours. We are at a nexus yet again, gentlemen, and the events of the next few hours will reveal the best course to be taken.” 

Aya sighed softly. “As long as we can buy enough time to do this training I’ll be content,” he said. Then a very small smile graced his lips. “Although it might be nice to have some money when we return.” There was something else on his mind but he would wait to discuss that when he and Crawford were alone. The precog would know if he and Yohji could still work together, be friends even. 

Yohji inhaled smoke and exhaled it slowly, careful not to let it drift in Aya’s direction more out of habit than anything else. 

“We’ve bought a great deal of time for that. We only need to make sure of our position here and from that point on, we can begin your training,” Crawford stated as he picked up his coffee and took a sip. “I don’t believe this will take more than a week or two at most.” 

Aya nodded, content with that answer. He glanced out of the window just in time to see the gunslinger from the store along with a small washed out redhead and a large, beefy man in a business suit approaching the hotel. “Mr Everette himself, I presume,” he said. 

Nagi appeared from the stairs and took up a position behind Crawford, his eyes watchful. Schuldig and everyone else were not far behind. 

Zeshin went to stand beside Aya, ignoring the sour look he got from Yohji who looked away from the two of them before he leaned back in his seat, crossed his long legs at the ankles and adopted a bored expression. 

Farfarello stepped off the stairs and leaned against the rail, giving him a clear line of attack on either the doorway or at the backs of anyone standing near the table where Brad was. 

Shaking his head slightly, Ken took a position just past the table where Brad and the others were, dropping into a seat in an effort not to appear as part of Crawford’s gang. 

Schuldig sat himself at another table and concentrated on Everette. *He’s more curious than anything else at present,* he reported to Brad. *He’ll offer a deal.* 

Aya sipped his tea, apparently unruffled but anyone who knew him well could see the slight tension in his body. 

The door opened and Everette’s party entered and gazed around. Everette spotted Brad and headed in his direction. 

The gunslinger stepped in, but stayed near the door while the telepath followed in his master’s wake, gaze instantly latching onto Schuldig he hesitated then doggedly followed Everette toward Brad’s table. 

*He feels your presence, Schuldig,* Farfarello remarked with a slight smirk, though he kept close tabs on the gunslinger, the man seemed to have his eye on Yohji. 

*He’s not that strong, he can’t even pick up our link.* Schuldig smiled across at his lover. *But he thinks he’s the bee’s knees! He’s in for a real surprise.* 

*The poor lad is out of his league, is he?* Farfarello asked, almost laughing. 

Everette addressed Brad directly. “Mr Crawford? Mind if I sit down? I hear you’re a businessman and I have a proposition for you.” 

Crawford offered the man an expression that might be mistaken for a smile, “It’s a free country,” he stated, neither welcoming nor dismissing the man outright. 

Yohji waved to get the attention of the hotel owner’s son, “Hey kid, we’re out of coffee again.” 

The young man glowered at the blond foreigner but managed a mostly civil, “Right away sir.” 

“Bring some pie too, I’m starving.” 

“Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?” Crawford said to Everette, “I’m sure you’re a busy man, as am I. So tell me, what is it this proposition?” 

Everette glanced at Yohji and frowned slightly. The blond’s apparent nonchalance appeared to bother him. He sat himself opposite Crawford and wiped his red and sweaty face with a silk handkerchief drawn from his top pocket. 

“I have a cast iron way for you to make a great deal of money.” He glanced round at the assembled assassins. “Especially as you have your own hired help.” 

“Really? And what exactly is this proposal of yours?” Crawford asked. “I mean, as you’ve pointed out, I do have my own assistants, and anything we’d engage in would have to provide a substantial amount of money to gain my interest.” 

Yohji took another long drag off his cigarillo and exhaled the smoke slowly, being careful not to let it head in Aya or Crawford’s direction. His care did not include Everette however. 

Brad raised an eyebrow at the blond and Yohji only smiled, the smoke trickling between his teeth. 

*Schuldig, Kudoh seems to be enjoying himself all together too much. Will you please find out why he has the appearance of a cat that’s downed more than it’s fair share of goldfish if you please?* 

*Not goldfish, whiskey. Four or five of them. He’s not actually drunk but at that stage where he’s convinced he can take on the world.* 

Aya glared, first at Yohji and then at Everette. He still remembered the storekeeper’s fear and the beaten up Chinese laundryman. He returned his gaze to Yohji and snarled out very quietly. “Behave or go away.” 

Everette appeared somewhat discomposed by Aya’s potent glare and quickly turned his attention back to Crawford who was at least a fellow American. “We protect local businesses from the ne’er do wells that litter this town. You could say we are the law keepers in the area. The businesses pay us a fee for our services.” 

“Ah, I see.” Crawford pretended to consider the man’s words, looking very thoughtful as he replied to Schuldig, *Everette doesn’t like how calm our dear gunslinger is since he feels his man is superior and wanted to see Kudoh sweat I believe.* Brad paused, * Try and pick up any conversation between Everette and the telepath, if you please, Schuldig. I’m curious to know what might be passing between these three.* 

Crawford moved aside slightly as the boy arrived with the coffee pot and an entire pie along with a stack of plates, “Mr. Crawford, Mr. Everette, this is compliments of my parents. They hope you both enjoy it.” He put pie, plates, forks and the coffee pot down and beat a hasty retreat. 

Yohji took the coffee pot and filled Crawford’s cup, “Nice and hot, boss,” he said, giving Aya a wink over the top of his glasses. 

Aya narrowed his eyes at the blond but made no further comment. 

Schuldig slipped quietly into Everette’s mind and almost laughed aloud. *He’s convinced that with his telepath and his gunslinger he can beat us easily should it come to a fight. The talent is getting very frustrated as he cannot read Aya at all. The gunslinger is itching to test his skill against Yohji.* His mental voice became serious all of a sudden. *He’s got the hots for Aya-chan and is determined to have her no matter how.* 

*Well that will be to his detriment should he try anything, which he eventually will being a fool.* Crawford held back the smirk that wanted to form on his face, *We all know what will happen to anyone foolish enough to rouse the ire of Abyssinian. 

*As to the man’s intent to draw Yohji out, he might get what he wants and regret it for the few seconds he’ll be alive after Kudoh shoots him. The man belongs here more than he ever did in his own time I think. Just look at him Schuldig, have you ever seen him so at ease, whiskey not withstanding, he seems to be in his element here. Farfarello too for that matter. Perhaps it has to do with the fact there is no law to hinder their true natures.* There was a mental chuckle and Schuldig could feel the ‘eureka’ sensation that came from the American. *Come to think of it, we’re all free to act as we wish, more or less aren’t we?* 

Crawford sighed, “Unfortunately, Everette, I just don’t see any real benefit in joining your-- business. I’m sure it’s all well and good for you, but it really does seem, well, a petty small time enterprise to me.” 

“Don’t be hasty, Mr Crawford,” Everette said, “there’s a great deal of money to be made in my ‘petty small time enterprise.’” He leaned across the table trying his best to look menacing. “And those who aren’t with me are very much against me.” 

Aya glanced at Crawford and, seeing the contempt for Everette on his face spoke directly to Everette for the first time. “Well I for one would rather be against you than bully defenceless businessmen,” he said coldly. “Snakes like you invariably end up trodden underfoot.” 

“If you think the petty funds you are extorting from the local businessmen is lucrative you’ve set your goals very low, Mr. Everette,” Brad stated, only giving the red-haired Weiss a vaguely amused smile. “But to be frank, to us, that’s just pocket change.” 

“Yep,” Yohji echoed voice quiet and calm but somehow menacing all the same. “I wouldn’t bother getting out of bed for that kind of change.” 

He served up a slice of pie and pushed it in front of Brad, “That enough for you boss?” 

Crawford nodded but his gaze hadn’t wavered from Everette’s face. “Now it’s my turn to make an offer to you, Everette. Get out of town and take your little playmates along before you, or they, get hurt.” 

Everette’s face went even redder and Kai had to wonder if the man was about to burst a blood vessel or three. “You’re making a big mistake, Crawford. A big mistake.” He rose to his feet and gesturing for his men to follow him, left the hotel. 

“Little playmates?” Schuldig echoed when they were gone. “That was harsh, even for you. There were twenty in the gang, this morning. Thanks to Yohji there are now eighteen. Most are the sort of bully boys we’ve seen around the town. You’ve just met the dangerous ones.” 

“Yes, we have haven’t we,” Brad agreed pleasantly. “And that, gentlemen, is my point. The telepath and the gunslinger are his best and brightest the rest are the dregs of humanity.” 

Smirking Farfarello ambled over to Crawford’s table, “Well if you were trying to get that two bit prig mad, you did a great job, Crawford. He was sputtering in a fury as they walked down the street. Maybe he’ll have a fit or a stroke and make things even easier for us.” 

“No such luck. But he will make the mistake of telling his boys they can come after any of us with impunity. Unfortunately for him, that’s what we’re going to do gentlemen. I want you to hunt them and put them down like the worthless dogs they are, starting today. I’m sure you can identify them easily enough, just watch how the good people of this town react to their presence. Anyone that elicits fear or resentment from a shopkeeper is a likely target.” 

He took a bite of the pie, nodded in approval, “Excellent. Everyone have some pie and then we’ll get this operation under way.” 

Aya made a small sound of satisfaction but whether it was due to the taste of the pie or killing Everette’s gang was anyone’s guess. 

Nagi floated a slice of pie over to Ken, having ascertained that no locals were in the hotel’s restaurant before asking, “do you want me to show my talent or not, Brad?” 

“I’d prefer not, at least not that openly,” the American said as he frowned at the floating pie. “We don’t want to terrorize the mundanes, Nagi, and you know how they get when they see things they can’t explain. The last thing we need are fire and brimstone preachers telling people we are practitioners of the black arts.” 

Ken accepted the pie, but he was watching Aya, “I guess we’re back to hunting dark beasts.” 

“Yeah,” Yohji commented, “same job, different century, but you know, somehow getting to pick the targets ourselves is a bit more satisfying because we know these dickheads really deserve what we give them.” 

Aya turned to stare at Yohji for that. “Are you saying that the Elders and the Takatori didn’t deserve what they got?” Then his violet gaze fell on Ken. “Only if you feel you can still do it without losing yourself, Hidaka.” 

Ken stared at Aya, “I’ll make an exception for this, okay? Those guys deserve whatever we do to them ten times over if what we saw outside the laundry was any indication.” 

“No,” Yohji said, his gaze locked with Aya’s, “But you have to wonder how many of the people we killed were killed because they stood in someone’s way. You took missions I wasn’t on, Aya, solo missions, or ones that only you and Ken went on. I took missions that you didn’t even know about.” He studied his slice of pie, then rammed the fork in it and took a bite. “I personally think some of the men I killed died for having political ambitions that ran counter to those Persia found helpful. Sure they deserved to die for the things they did to women, but then again, video is easy to fake isn’t it?” 

Crawford nodded, “He brings up a good point, Fujimiya. Not every mission you took involved the dark beasts you’d like to think you were ridding the world of, but then I think you always knew that, didn’t you?” 

Aya stared down at his plate for a moment before looking up again and meeting Crawford’s eyes. “It got to a point where it didn’t really matter. Unlike Ken and Yohji I never had the desire to explain away my actions or attempt to atone for them. I am what I am and I’m damned good at it.” 

The red-haired man had to notice the way the other pair of ex-Weiss were staring at him. Ken just frowned and looked away, Yohji nodded slowly. “Anything to keep Aya-chan alive. They always had that to hang over your head, didn’t they?” 

“Yohji, you of all people should know that it wasn’t just that. I am an assassin by trade, and I make no apologies for it. I take pride in my work. Doubtless I shall pay for my ‘crimes’ on the wheel of karma but that is for another lifetime.” 

Farfarello picked up a piece of the pie and started eating it off the blade of his newest knife, the Bowie he’d gotten at the general store earlier in the day. “I want the chance to practice fighting together before we have to face Rosenkruez’s agents in our own time. Just fight without using powers.” He grinned fiercely at Ken, “I think we’ll work together quite well if this morning was any indication.” 

“Maybe too well,” Ken stated. 

“Don’t get careless. No, most of them have little chance to beat any of us, but carelessness can get even someone like me killed,” Crawford warned. “I want all of you to keep that in mind please.” 

Kai nodded his agreement to Brad’s words. He wasn’t ready to die just yet. Aya’s words should have shocked him, but somehow they didn’t. He remembered Takatori Mamoru briefing him on his entry to Weiss. 

_“Yohji-kun is a good assassin but he doesn’t actually enjoy killing so he has moments of denial and self doubt. Aya-kun is a superb assassin. Cold, clinical, methodical and focused. He enjoys his work.”_

Was that why he had wanted Aya dead? Because he was afraid he’d created a monster? 

Farfarello just smiled his cold, knowing smile. “Same warning you’ve been giving us for years, Crawford. We know the drill, don’t we Schuldig?” 

Ken finished wolfing down his pie, “I need to find someone that can make some bugnucks. I don’t fight as well with knives and I’m not good enough with a gun to play even second fiddle to Yohji’s gunslinger label.” 

Yohji studied Aya, “No, you aren’t Ken, but we both know someone who is, don’t we?” 

Zeshin sighed. No one had offered him any of the pie, and it had smelled good, but he also knew better than to complain. If things between he and Aya-san were the way he suspected he’d only have been punished for mentioning the oversight. 

Aya cut a second piece of the pie and handed it to Zeshin without a word, his eyes still meeting Yohji’s. “I doubt if a katana will have any of them running and hiding, even though it should,” he said calmly. “However, I’m used to modern guns, not the revolvers they have in this time.” 

“No, they’re patently too stupid to understand the threat of a bladed weapon. Aya, given your skill, you should have no problem with revolvers,” Yohji stated quietly. “If you want to practice, I’ll loan you my pistol but it’s easy.” He sighed and watched Zeshin take a piece of pie from the red-head. “It will give us a chance to talk. Alone.” 

“Good idea Kudoh. The two of you do have things to discuss and I have a meeting with Mr. Porter in a half hour. Farfarello and Schuldig can accompany me, Nagi and Ken can keep an eye on things here.” 

The American turned his attention to Kai and Zeshin, “The pair of you can go to the general store and pick up three more revolvers like Kudoh’s and fifteen boxes of bullets.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a drawstring bag that clinked softly as he dropped it on the table. “That should be more than enough to pay for what we require.” 

Everyone jumped to do Crawford’s bidding except Aya who was still staring at Yohji, an almost regretful expression in his eyes. “Where do you suggest we practice?” he asked after a moment. 

“The alley behind the hotel might work. Or we could find somewhere else. I’m sure there has to be somewhere around here we can practice.” 

Crawford said to Schuldig, *Tell Fujimiya to work out his problems with Kudoh. We can’t afford to have the two of them fighting over sex or anything else for that matter.* 

*I think that’s already his intention, Brad. But I’ve passed the message on.* There was a mental wince as Aya obviously told Schuldig to butt out in no uncertain terms. 

His displeasure was obvious from the way he glared at Crawford although he said nothing, merely rising to his feet and heading in the direction of the alley behind the hotel. 

Yohji followed him. Once they were out there and Yohji had ascertained that they were alone, he walked closer to Aya and, grabbing the back of the other assassin’s head to hold him still, he kissed Aya passionately with no reservations. 

Aya allowed this, he even responded just as passionately before breaking away. “You might want to get the practice over with before we talk as neither of us might like what the other has to say.” 

“What I have to say is that I love you and I need you. But if you don’t want me just say so and I’ll leave you alone for good. Tell me you want to call it quits and we will, no hard feelings, no hatred we’ll go back to being team mates and nothing more,” Yohji explained, his thumb gently brushing across Aya’s pallid cheek. “Just tell me what you want, Aya. I’ll try to give it to you. No promises, but I love you too much not to try and make you happy.” 

Aya sighed. “I know you consider me beautiful, Yohji, and so do others both now and in the past. But I’m not beautiful. I’m like a deadly, poisonous snake, brightly coloured on the outside but a killing machine on the inside. 

“Kikyou, Yuushi, they both tried to make me their uke and I did try. Then you did the same and I tried again except that with you I wanted more equality. Then you talked about tying me up and I knew that could never happen. That I couldn’t give you what you want. 

“I’m not an uke, Yohji, I’m a dominant and somewhat sadistic seme. That’s why I was drawn to Zeshin. He feeds that need in me.” 

He was silent for a moment. “I know that Crawford wants me. He’s dropped hints about liking pain, but he’s a dominant too so I doubt if that would work out either.” He stared down at the ground, finding this even more difficult than he’d expected. 

“I wanted… I hoped to share Zeshin with you so you could tie him up if you wished, but you didn’t seem to like that idea so now, I don’t know what to do.” 

“Zeshin doesn’t interest me. He’s pretty enough, I’ll grant you that. But I’m not interested in having sex with a submissive doll.” He reached out and forced Aya to meet his gaze by taking hold of his chin. “I know what you want. I’ve known it from the start even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself. What I’m telling you is...” Yohji drew in a breath and let the words come out in a rush, “I’m willing to let you tie me up, put a collar on me, a leash, whatever makes you happy but only when we’re behind a locked door.” 

There, he’d made the offer, his heart pounding in his chest the way it would when a mission was going bad on them. It was fear. The same icy cold that used to fill him when a mission had gone wrong before Aya had been part of Weiss. He’d always felt that chill dread, not for himself, but for Ken and Omi. Feeling it over this, knowing what he was saying, made him question his own sanity for an instant. But he loved Aya, and he wasn’t going to just let the only good thing left in his life slip away because of fear. It was against his nature to run from fear. Even this. 

Aya stared up into those beautiful green eyes and saw the fear in them. And yet Yohji had made the offer despite his fear. “I can’t expect that of you,” he said. “I told you, Yohji, I wanted us to be equals. I still want that. So it wouldn’t be fair to expect those things of you when I can’t reciprocate.” 

“I won’t ask it of you, Aya. I understand, you need to be in control. It’s too hard for you not to be, but you’re afraid of what you might do to me too, aren’t you? Afraid you’ll slip and show a side of yourself that will make me hate you. Is that it? Be honest.” 

Aya nodded. “Zeshin expects that treatment, he was bred for it you weren‘t. I don’t want to hurt you, Yotan, and I don’t want you to hate me. I hardly understand the things I want myself. How can I expect you to understand?” 

“Aya, I’ve seen you kill and lusted after you. I’ve devoured you with my eyes while you were covered in blood, reeking of death. What could you possibly show me that’s worse than the things I know about myself? I wanted the killer, the cold-blooded assassin not the boy you used to be. I never met him.” He touched Aya’s hair, running his fingers through it, staring into the pale violet eyes as if he were trying to lose himself in their depths. “Nothing you can do to me will hurt worse than losing you forever.” 

Aya slipped one arm round Yohji’s waist and pulled his head down for another kiss with the other. When they both had to come up for air he said, a little breathlessly, “what do you want me to do about Zeshin?” 

“He needs you as much as you need him. I won’t say I’m not jealous, but,” Yohji shrugged, “I’ll tolerate just about anything to stay with you.” 

“I don’t deserve you, Yohji, I really don’t. But I do love you. You have no reason to be jealous of Zeshin. I don’t love him even though I need what he can supply. I wish I didn’t.” 

“So do I,” Yohji murmured, leaning down slightly so he could give the red-haired man a tender kiss. “Maybe later we’ll have a little time to ourselves. I want to be with you, to let you have control.” 

Aya shivered in Yohji’s arms. He would enjoy that but he wanted Yohji inside him almost as much as he wanted to be inside Yohji. “We’ll take turns,” he promised. “Now, about this revolver…” 

“Sounds good,” Yohji chuckled, deliberately misconstruing what the man was talking about, “No, it’s not a six shooter, it’s a semi-automatic, all it needs is a bit of assistance from your hand.” 

“A semi-automatic? In this time? Let me see.” 

Yohji smirked which ruined the attempt at an innocent expression he’d tried to manage. He was teasing the younger man and the whole joke had gone sailing right over his team mate’s head, which wasn’t really unusual with the too serious red head. “Well the gun I was talking about isn’t this one,” he remarked. “I was thinking of another one I might let you hold later. If you’re good that is.” 

“Yohji! Can you never be serious?” The words might be harsh but the blush on Aya’s face told a totally different story. “Let me see the revolver, then we’ll think about time alone. But I’m not prepared to be defenceless in this place.” 

“You, defenceless? Aya, if I handed you a pencil you’d probably manage to kill someone with it if you had too,” Yohji commented, as he handed the revolver to Aya. 

Aya ignored the remark about pencils as frivolous and examined the revolver, weighing it in his hand and spinning the chamber. He held it up and fired, shattering an empty bottle that was lying in the alleyway. 

“Surprisingly smooth,” he commented. 

“We’re used to modern guns. They’re heavier and larger calibre, with more kick. This thing feels like a toy compared to the last automatic I fired, we won’t even bring up assault rifles or machine pistols in comparison.” 

“True. This doesn’t kick like a fucking mule. And a leg holster makes a fast draw easier.” He handed the gun back to Yohji. “I should manage with one like it quite well.” 

The blond smiled, “Yeah, you will.” He glanced both ways down the alley then gripped Aya by the shoulders and gave the younger man a scorching kiss. 

Aya’s hands reached up, his fingers threading through Yohji’s hair as he held him in place and kissed him back just as intensely. 

Yohji was the one that broke the kiss, his jade eyes meeting Aya’s were alight with lust, his breathing ragged, and something rigid was pressing against the red-haired man’s thigh. “I want you to fuck me. Now.” 

“Here?” He glanced up and down the empty alley, gunshots obviously too common to bring anyone running. “Or do you want to go upstairs?” 

“If I said here, would you do it?” 

Aya’s eyes narrowed. “Are you challenging me? Without a second’s thought.” 

“No, not a challenge Aya. I’m just curious to know if you’d actually even consider doing it in a public place in the middle of the day.” Yohji leaned down and whispered into Aya’s ear, “I used to fantasize about fucking you on the table in the Koneko where either Omi or Ken could walk in on us. Or in the flower cooler with you covered in rose petals.” 

Aya made a small sound that might have been a chuckle. “So here should be no problem, right? It’s up to you but decide quickly.” 

Yohji smiled. “Check my right pocket. I think everything we need’s in there.” 

Aya returned the smile and dug his hand into Yohji’s pocket, extracting a tube of lube. He gave Yohji another kiss by way of a thank you as his hands busied themselves at his lover’s waistband, undoing button, belt and zip. Then he stepped away slightly. “Get them off, now.” He popped open the tube and smeared lube on his fingers. 

Yohji raised one gold eyebrow. “Off? As in totally off, or just down around my knees?” he asked as he started to push his jeans down his long legs. “To take them off I’d have to remove my boots, and I’m not sure that’s a good idea here, all things considered,” he added looking at the dirt under their feet. 

“Knees will do, then turn round and brace yourself against the wall.” He waited as Yohji did just that then ran lube around the tight muscles of his ass, gently easing them and entering the tight heat beyond with two fingers. Yohji was tighter than he’d expected and he added more lube and another finger. 

Finally he could wait no longer and unzipped his flies, coating himself quickly but thoroughly. “Are you ready, Yohji?” 

“Yes. Do it. Fuck me Aya,” the blond practically growled out the demand as he braced his hands on the wall. 

Aya growled in return and entered Yohji with one long, smooth thrust. He waited a second or two as Yohji’s body relaxed around him and then began to move, slowly at first until he felt Yohji was used to it then harder and faster. 

Each hard thrust stroking that sweet place deep inside dragged another soft cry of pleasure out of Yohji. 

Aya kept up the pace, savouring Yohji’s little cries and moans of pleasure. He dug his fingers into Yohji’s hips, pulling him back so he could go even deeper. Then he gasped softly as he felt his balls begin to tighten. He snaked one hand round Yohji’s body taking hold of his erection and beginning to pump him. “Come for me, Yohji,” he gasped, “now.” 

The blond shuddered, body rocking with the red head’s thrusts, the hand gripping his cock holding it with just the right amount of pressure. He gasped sharply as he came, and pushed his ass hard into Aya’s pelvis wanting the man’s hardness as deep as it could go. 

“Aya... I love you....” 

It was enough to push Aya over the edge and he thrust almost desperately, pumping come into Yohji’s willing body as he cried out the blond’s name. 

“Gods! Yohji!” 

He collapsed against Yohji’s back for a moment or two before slowly withdrawing with a hiss of loss. 

“Aya... I love you....” the blond panted, still leaning weakly against the wall. It always amazed him how quickly he could come when he was with Aya. With a woman-- or two-- it took him a lot longer. Maybe it was because they didn’t excite him the way the beauty of his male team mate did. 

It left Yohji wondering if he was more gay than he realized. 

“I love you too,” Aya said close to Yohji’s ear. “I’ll never let you go.” 

He produced some tissues from a pocket and cleaned himself before handing some to Yohji. He zipped up and finally thought to glance around. There was no sign of anyone yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had seen them. 

Yohji wiped himself as clean as he could then tossed the tissues into a pile of wooden crates before hauling his jeans up and zipping them. “You know, we take so much for granted. Like those paper tissues. We can’t get more of them.” He buttoned his pants and tightened his belt before picking his gun belt back up and putting it on. 

“I don’t really like the cigarillos either. Damned things don’t stay lit,” he remarked as he pulled another one from his shirt pocket, slipped it between his lips, and struck a match on the nearest wall. 

“Then the sooner we get this training done and clear the town so Crawford can make a pile of money, the better,” Aya said before pulling Yohji’s head down for another kiss. 

Yohji’s arms went around his lover holding him tightly, not wanting to ever let him go. He’d almost lost this, almost walked away from the best thing in his entire life. 

Aya. 

Aya-chan drew back from her bedroom window, tears streaking her face. She had guessed, even before she went into a coma that her brother was gay but it had come as a real shock to find that his partner was Yohji. 

Despite her disparaging remarks to Zeshin, the tall blond interested her as none of the others did and now, it seemed, he would never be interested. 

Motion caught Yohji’s attention and he glanced up. 

“Oh shit, Aya, isn’t that your sister’s room up there?” 

Aya’s eyes widened in shock before he nodded. “I thought I felt someone watching. Yohji, I’m sorry. I think she’s always guessed about me but you might not have wanted her to know.” 

Yohji just shook his head. “Aya, she’s probably known about us since Bangkok. Hell, she’d have to have been blind and deaf not to have figured it out while we were on the plane for that matter.” 

“As long as you’re comfortable with it,” Aya said, his tone somewhat relieved. He smiled suddenly. “I think I’ve worked out how your gun works so we may as well go back inside.” 

And face a pissed off Crawford. It was better this way, though, and he was still prepared to follow the American’s lead. He hadn’t set them wrong so far. 

“I’m fine with it, if she is. I don’t get the impression she approves, but she hasn’t complained to me either so...” the blond shrugged, “We’ll see what happens.” 

“As far as the gun goes, they aren’t that difficult if you know how to handle a firearm.” He grinned, “I used to play that stupid High Noon game every day after school when I was a kid.” 

The blond shoved open the back door of the hotel. “Might as well go in this way. I’m sure they won’t complain. Our fearless leader has them too cowed.” Yohji actually chuckled at the comment. “Or is that bamboozled?” he asked, trying to recall some of the more colourful Old West words he’d heard in American films. 

“You’d probably know better than I would,” Aya admitted. “My English was learned through a lady from somewhere called Oxford in England. Apparently that’s where correct English is spoken so I don’t think she taught me any nineteenth century American idioms.” 

They passed through the kitchen and found themselves back in the foyer.


	6. Ordinary Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

It was a fine house with a deep veranda, spacious rooms and gas lights as befitted a businessman of Crawford’s standing. He had invested in Porter’s import business and already a few items hitherto unheard of had found their way into the local store to the delight of the ordinary citizens. 

The fact that both he and Schuldig had become almost legendarily lucky gamblers while Yohji and Aya had disposed of several of Everette’s goons had helped their standing in the town too. 

As had the fact that Ken had gotten into a brawl in the saloon and knocked out one of the local bare knuckle boxing champions of the town. A man who happened to be on Everett’s payroll and who was known for picking on men smaller than himself. A mistake since he’d chosen to bully Ken for that very reason. 

When the man picked Zeshin for his next target the error had proven even more dangerous, and he’d been lucky to escape with his life, though he’d had more broken ribs than he’d have gotten from being kicked by a mule. 

Kai and Nagi were keeping lower profiles due to Nagi’s talent and Kai’s skill with the sai, neither of which would be considered anything less than magical in such a backwater. As a result of being such dark horses, when they were seen around town they were treated with some degree of respect. Especially after one of Everette’s men mistook a respectable woman for a prostitute and was found with a strange weapon embedded in his chest. 

Aya-chan was considered by many to be Mr Crawford’s mistress or fiancée and was rarely seen abroad without at least two escorts. 

The laundry was finally making a profit, thanks to Crawford’s men’s liking for clean clothes and the tailor and storekeeper were also keeping more of their profits due to at least one of Crawford’s men always being around on ‘collection’ days. Of course, for that consideration, all three businessmen gave Crawford and his associates healthy discounts on anything they bought. 

However, there was still a fair way to go before decent folks could walk the streets in complete safety. There was the seemingly endless supply of hired muscle that Everette kept producing like rabbits out of hats, and the more ominous presence of his gunslinger and telepath, both of whom were keeping clear of Crawford and his ‘boys.’ 

Yohji leaned back in the wooden chair that he kept on the porch, his long legs elevated on the corner of the railing, the chair tipped back so it was standing on the two rear legs. His gun belt was slung low on his hips, the new belt a very dark brown that went nicely with his green shirt, dark brown vest and pants. 

As always, his rose coloured glasses were perched on his nose, a cigarillo dangling from his lips trailing a thin stream of smoke as he watched the quiet street. 

It had been quiet for several days now, all of Everett’s men staying well away from them out of fear, or by order of their boss, maybe both. He inhaled and then blew out a slow stream of smoke, wondering when the others would get back from their excursion to buy more supplies. 

He was bored and missed TV and dance clubs and everything else that was part of the time they’d come from. 

The door opened and Aya-chan appeared through it, gracefully manipulating a hoop and voluminous petticoats, as she brought him a cup of coffee. She sat on the rocking chair that her thoughtful brother had provided for her and sipped at her own coffee as she regarded the blond. 

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” she asked eventually. 

Yohji put the remains of his cigarillo into the empty jar by his chair, took a sip of the steaming coffee and shrugged, “That depends on what you’re going to ask me.” 

She stared down at her own coffee for a moment before replying. Then she asked her question. “You seem like the sort of man who could have anyone he wanted. So I was wondering if you really love my brother.” 

She glanced up then, her dark blue eyes almost as fierce as Aya’s could be on occasion. 

“Enough that I’d die in his place if it came down to that,” Yohji answered without even the slightest pause to think about her question. “Enough that I’d do anything to make him happy and keep his love.” 

Her eyes softened considerably as she heard his reply and she even smiled. “Then you deserve him,” she said. “I’m sorry to have bothered you with it, but he never was very good with people and he made some dreadful mistakes before Takatori fucked up our lives. He was very shy then and altogether too trusting.” 

Yohji regarded her, his gaze thoughtful before he said, “It’s hard for me to imagine him any other way than he is now. It still takes me by surprise to see him smile, or to hear him laugh. 

“What was he like before Takatori fucked up your lives?” 

“I used to see him smile and laugh a lot, but he was comfortable with me. We were laughing together the night we walked into the house and found our parents bodies. He had a sense of humour back before then, although strangers rarely saw it. He had to get to know people really well before he would even attempt to joke with them.” 

She gazed into the distance, remembering Ran rather than Aya. “When my brother decided to joke his sense of humour was very sly and always dry.” 

“He had a couple of crushes but he never let on to anyone but me. I think both guys were straight anyway and it often made him unhappy that so many girls seemed to like him but that he couldn’t respond to them.” 

Yohji listened to Aya-chan speak of a boy he’d never met, could never know. There was a hard knot in his chest when he thought about what Takatori Reiji had done, how he’d turned an innocent boy named Ran into the killing machine that Yohji knew as Aya. 

“He still can’t respond to them,” the blond stated quietly. “I think you’re the only woman who’ll ever touch any part of his heart. He loves you, but I think you know that.” 

“Yes, I know, and I love him. We’re all that’s left, after all.” She sighed slightly. “Although I’m glad to be with him and the rest of you, I’m also not sure that a brother’s love is enough for me.” 

Yohji stared at his cup of coffee, “You’ll find someone, Aya-chan. Probably not here, but you’ll find someone.” Exactly how that would happen even if they got back to their own time Yohji wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to think about the girl being alone amid a sea of gay men her whole life either. 

And he wasn’t about to broach the subject of becoming her lover. For one thing he wasn’t sure how Aya the man would take the idea, nor was he sure it would be fair to her, all things considered. 

“Perhaps,” she said, “although while people are regarding me as Crawford’s mistress it might be difficult. I know what they’re saying and I know it’s expedient to let them think it while we’re here. It still annoys me though.” 

“We won’t be here forever,” Yohji reminded her. “And I don’t blame you for being annoyed with the situation, but it does help keep you safe. Besides I can’t think of a single man in this town that your brother would let get within talking distance of you, much less anything more intimate. 

“Not that any of us would let any of them get close to you.” He smiled, “Hell I think even the Irish nutcase is becoming protective of you.” 

That produced a chuckle. “He’s very sweet to me and is teaching me how to swear in Gaelic. I like him. I like you all. I’m just fed up with being so much excess baggage.” 

Yohji sighed and took a drink of his cooling coffee. “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and I hear his voice talking to Schuldig. I don’t know what he’s saying, but it sounds...” he shook his head, “just like any man in love with someone. It’s still hard for me to think that the crazed psychotic killers I knew and fought are able to express any tender emotion.” 

He laughed softly, “I guess even a madman and a half-crazed telepath are still human to some degree.” 

She cocked her head to one side as if considering something. “Did you know it was Schuldig who woke me from the coma? It was his voice calling my name that brought me back.” 

She shook her head at the memory. “Back to find my brother apparently dead and that strange doppelganger Sakura dressed exactly like me. It was not the best awakening although I’m told it would have been worse if I’d awoken even half an hour earlier.” 

“Yeah, that’s true,” the blond agreed. “I don’t even like remembering that night. Truthfully I had nightmares over that whole sequence of events for a couple of weeks. 

“When you disappeared from the hospital Aya was... like a man possessed. I don’t think he slept much, he hardly ate anything, but he wouldn’t accept help either. 

“It was a bad time for all of us, especially your brother. Sakura didn’t help either, she was obsessed with him. She would have done anything to make him love her the way she loved him. Sakura didn’t know he was gay. All she knew was that she wanted him. It probably didn’t even occur to her that her resemblance to you would probably have creeped him out even if he’d been straight. I mean... how could he have loved her as anything but a sister when she looked so much like you?” 

He frowned at the memory of how the girl had hounded Aya, following him, making a total pest of herself. Yohji’d wanted to scream at her to stay the fuck away from Aya, but didn’t dare interfere. It would have revealed things he hadn’t wanted any of his team mates, or Kritiker to know, like the fact he was deeply in love with their icy cold leader. 

“I love him. I’ve loved him for a long time.” 

“And I think you kept it hidden for a long time,” Aya-chan said thoughtfully, “which was probably not a bad idea with that little creep Takatori living in the same house. He broke both Aya’s and Ken’s hearts by turning on you all the way he did. If he’d known your feelings he’d have used them against you probably.” 

“As for Sakura, she was weird. She told me the whole of what she knew about you all and then took me to the shop you used to run suggesting it would be a great idea if I ran it instead and she could help me after school. I agreed as although I was nineteen by then and unable to go to school, I still looked sixteen and nobody else bar Momoe-san would give me a job. Then she hung around me till I wanted to scream at her to go away.” 

She sighed. “I sometimes wonder if she saw me as a substitute for my brother. We were both led to believe that none of you had survived you see.” 

Yohji nodded, "I know. That was what your brother wanted. At the time anyway. And yeah, you're right about Aya and Ken. What Takatori Mamoru did... well none of us can forgive him. Not for this." 

He shook his head, "I feel sorry for Zeshin. The little bastard really did that kid wrong, worse than he did with us." 

"And Sakura is a subject best not spoken of in front of your brother. I think he wants to forget her and leave her in our past. And I can't say I blame him either. Her obsession with him was... disturbing. And I think you're right about her friendship with you. It was her way of clinging onto the hope she'd find your brother again. I don't think she bought the lie Kritiker told her that we were dead, not when she knew what we did. She probably knew it for the lie it was." 

“She did drop hints from time to time and when they first told us she simply refused to believe it. I was quite relieved that she wasn’t at the shop when Brad came to tell me where my brother was.” She smiled. “But then that was probably deliberate on his part.” 

The smile died slowly and gradually became a frown. “What did that little beast do to Zeshin that could be worse than letting me think my only family was dead and then trying to make sure he was?” 

"For starters he sent Zeshin to kill us, knowing it was a death sentence. If he'd killed me, Aya would have..." the blond shook his head, "it doesn't matter.” 

“And that was just for starters? Kami-sama! The man’s a monster! Zeshin is a kind and loving boy. He didn’t deserve that. And I’m not stupid, Yohji. I know there is more to him than anyone is saying. It doesn’t matter though. He still has a gentle soul… unlike my brother.” 

Yohji carefully changed the subject. Talking to Aya-chan about her brother and his... pet... just wasn't something the blond felt comfortable with, not in the least. 

But he did feel he needed to mention one thing to her about the 'gentle soul' she thought Zeshin was. "Aya-chan, one thing you should keep in mind about Zeshin... he's a killer too. Don't let the way he speaks and acts fool you. He's every bit as much a cold-blooded murderer as your brother... or me for that matter." 

“I know that. I’ve seen him in action, remember. I also know what he is to my brother and it saddens me but, at the same time, they both seem content with the situation. I think it is you who has the problems.” 

She held up her hands. “Please, don’t bite my head off. I meant it in the best possible way. I think you are still too much the gentleman to want to discuss such things with me. The problem is me. I’m tired of being treated like a very dumb piece of porcelain.” 

"Yeah, I guess that has gotten old, hasn't it?" Yohji asked, carefully skirting the issues she's brought up concerning Zeshin and her brother, as well as the tangled mess the relationship between Aya and himself had become. 

"The only suggestion I can make is for you to talk to Aya. I can't promise he'll listen. Hell, even if he does I can't say how Crawford would take you suddenly becoming more than self-moving baggage." He pulled another cigarillo from his pocket and considered lighting it. "I'm not sure Aya's ready for you to grow up." 

“I don’t care whether he’s ready or not! I am more than ready to grow up! I was running the Koneko on my own for quite a while where it took all four of you! Drat! That was childish of me. But I am very nearly twenty now whether I look it or not and I’m tired of being patted on the head and treated like a goddamn child!” 

Having got that off her chest she stormed back into the house, slamming the door behind her. 

Yohji'd made a mess of his attempt to speak to Aya-chan. Lately every conversation he had seemed to go off track. Sighing he put his cigarillo into his mouth and lit it. 

Schuldig rode up a few minutes later, dismounted and joined Yohji on the porch having first tethered his horse to it. 

“You look glum. What’s up?” He leaned against the wall and dug a cigarillo out of a pocket and lit it. 

"Aya-chan's not happy. Can't say I blame her, we do treat her like a fragile child." He glanced up at the German, "I thought you were with Vater," he said, using the telepath's own word for Crawford with an amused glint in his jade eyes. 

“Farf’s still with him so he’s perfectly safe. Besides I left him discussing imports with Porter and I can’t really see our so polite friend being anything but civil. Everette and company are laying low but Ken, Nagi, Zeshin and Aya are keeping an eye on them while Vater’s in town.” 

He smirked at his cigarillo. “As for Aya-chan, I wondered how long it would be before she exploded.” 

"I knew it was coming too," Yohji admitted. "She's been really tense for a few weeks now." He took a long drag from his cigarillo and exhaled slowly, "She's lonely. Everyone has someone but her... Well... not everyone, but most of us are more or less happily paired, plus she's a virtual captive in this house. No matter the beauty of the place, a cage is a cage." 

Schuldig sighed. “Ja,” he agreed. “And Zeshin would be no good for her so that leaves you.” He glanced at Yohji to see how he would take that. 

"Or Brad, but I think he's as gay as..." Yohji looked up at the German, "the rest of Schwarz." He took a slow inhalation of smoke from the cigarillo and let it out slowly, "Or Ken, I know he's been with at least one girl." He looked thoughtful for a moment, "Never mind. I think he's too involved with Nagi though..." the thoughtful look deepened, "She's the same age they are, more or less. I wonder... I mean Nagi was with that Tot girl and Ken had Yuriko... Hmm..." 

“And that means they’ve both been through too much already to add the emotional stresses and strains of a third party to their relationship,” Schuldig said. “What exactly are you so afraid of Kudoh? Abyssinian leaving you? Not going to happen. Him killing you? He’d follow you almost immediately if he did that. Or are you afraid of being in love with both siblings?” 

The blond replied, "You have to admit there's a bit of a kink factor in fucking a brother and sister. I'm not sure that's something I want to try. Besides I'm having enough trouble with the relationship I've got with Aya, much less getting involved with his sister." 

“Oh? I thought you’d sorted that out now. Zeshin still bothering you?” 

Yohji made a negating motion of his head, and fell silent. He wasn't going to discuss the more intimate details of his rocky relationship with Abyssinian but the truth was the red-head occasionally got a bit rougher than Yohji could handle. 

Schuldig picked up on his thought processes of course. Yohji often forgot that he was empathic as well as telepathic. “You need to talk to him if he’s getting too…er…boisterous. He loves you enough to listen.” 

"Keep your mind to yourself, Schuldig. I can handle things with Abyssinian on my own, I'm a big boy." He stood, intending to go inside but he caught a movement from the corner of one eye and stopped. 

Everette's gunslinger was standing on the corner at the end of the street. "Company," the blond remarked softly, as he took a step toward the front door. "I wonder what he's doing here." 

Schuldig winced as Aya’s voice shouted in his head. *The gunslinger is heading towards the house.* 

*He’s already here and there’s no need to shout.* 

Aya’s mental voice became calmer. *Ah, ok, I thought Yohji was alone with my sister.* 

*Nope, just got back so Jesse James, or whoever he thinks he is, is unlikely to try anything today.* 

He turned to smile at Yohji. “Your boyfriend is worried about you.” 

"Aya always worries. It's part of his job description. And the gunslinger's alone. I don't think he'd try anything without back up." The blond opened the front door to see if Aya-chan was anywhere in sight. "You feel any of Everette's other morons around?" 

“No. I think Aya and the others have them locked down so we’ll know if they make a move.” 

Aya-chan, having heard the door open glanced up from the book she was reading. Her line of sight gave her a clear view outside and she visibly shuddered when she saw the gunslinger. “Why is he here again? He gives me the creeps.” 

"He's just here to make us nervous, at least that's my guess," Yohji answered. 

"Schuldig, what do you think about having a little one on one chat with our local irritant?" 

Schuldig shrugged. “Sounds like a plan,” he said. “Can’t do any harm at least. Do you want to do the honours?” 

"Yeah. You stay here with Aya-chan and I'll go have a talk with him." He gave the telepath a tight, humourless smile, "Maybe I can convince him that working for Everette is going to shorten his life even more than his choice of profession will." 

“Good luck,” Schuldig said with a grim smile in return. “I have a feeling you’re going to need it. I’ll be on the porch, just in case.” He turned to Aya-chan. “I think you should stay inside for now.” 

Although she shot him a hard-eyed stare, she had no real intention of moving. 

Yohji gave a curt nod in acknowledgement of Schuldig's words then stepped off the porch heading toward the dark haired man his revolver a solid weight on his right hip. 

The gunslinger remained where he was, neither moving away nor forwards. He merely waited for Yohji to approach. 

When he was about ten feet from the other man, Yohji stopped and regarded him for a moment, his jade eyes sweeping over the other man as if sizing him up. "Is there some reason you feel the need to watch Mr. Crawford's house?" 

Cold eyes raked over the Japanese assassin before the gunslinger spoke. Even then he didn’t answer the question. Instead he smiled a cold lifting of the thin lips that didn’t reach the arctic obsidian eyes. 

“I bin wonderin’ which of us would be the faster if it ever came to it,” he said. 

"And you came all the way over here to think it over, is that it?" Yohji asked, not buying the answer. "The way I see it you might live a might longer if you walked away from this. Everette can't win, not against our boss." 

“Everette does as he pleases,” the gunslinger said indifferently. “I know our time will soon be up and law will find its way west. What will you and that redheaded Chinaman do then? Cos I don’t think neither of you works within the law. And you both like the killin’ too much to settle, I’m thinkin’.” 

"We'll manage," Yohji replied knowing full well what they'd be doing once they'd had time to really become familiar with their individual powers. They'd go back to their own time and deal with Rosenkreuz and its agents. After that, well they'd have to decide what to do. 

"Take my advice, walk away from this while you can," Yohji told the other man. 

“And do what? Buy a farm? Pan for gold with all the other idiots? I don’t think so. We’ll meet sooner or later, boy. I’m lookin’ forward to it.” 

With that parting shot he deliberately turned his back on Yohji and walked slowly and nonchalantly away. 

The blond shook his head. He'd given the man a chance to escape death and he hadn't taken it. Yohji turned and walked back to the house, knowing that more people were going to die before this whole mess came to an end. 

But that wasn't anything new for Weiss or Schwarz. They were professional killers, like the gunslinger he'd just spoken to. The main difference was, at the end of it all, Yohji was pretty sure who'd still be alive, and it wouldn't be any of Everette's men. 

Schuldig was still standing on the porch. “I take it that little conversation came to nothing,” he said. “I guess the guy is getting old and wants to die with his boots on.” 

"Yeah, maybe." Yohji propped himself against on of the porch rails, "I just wish we could get this over with soon. I want to get on with this training thing that Crawford wants us to do. I really miss cold beer and real cigarettes." 

“I don’t think it will be long before things come to a head. Everette’s losing money everywhere and is just stupid enough to take us on over it. He’s also thrilled to bits with his little telepath who is a natural talent and arrogant with it. He didn’t get the training I got.” 

A dark look settled over Schuldig’s face before he shrugged. “Pride cometh before a fall,” he quoted. “And Everette’s telepath is full of that.” 

"So are a few other people I could name that live under this roof, present company included, and no, I'm not leaving myself out." 

He crossed his ankles and rested more of his weight on the rail, his own expression as darkly thoughtful as Schuldig's own, "I thought the reason we came here was to learn how to control our abilities. Instead we seem bent on helping Crawford assure he's got a fortune when we get back to our own time. I wonder if we're setting something into motion that will change our own histories." He gave the German an odd grin, "You know, like those American Sci-fi shows where people change who they are by tampering with their own pasts." 

“You’re forgetting Brad’s talent,” Schuldig said easily. “He knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s working for all of our futures not just his own. If we’re to deal with the future that I believe he has in mind we’re going to need a great deal of money.” 

“I wish he’d confide in us a bit more. We still don’t really know what his plans are. At least,” he eyed Schuldig speculatively, “we former Weiss don’t.” 

He looked at the end of his cigarillo, watched the thin trail of smoke it was making, “That’s another thing. We aren’t Weiss anymore. You guys, well you still identify with Schwarz and your own past, but some of us don’t know how to relate to our future here with the four of you.” While he didn’t voice it, what he really meant by ‘we’ was just himself. Just a very unhappy Kudoh Yohji caught between what used to be, and what might be. Or, what he might never have again. 

Schuldig tossed the butt of his cigarillo over the rail into the street and sighed before turning to gaze thoughtfully at Yohji. “Perhaps we identify with being part of Schwartz because we were all each other had. I know you trust Ken and Aya for the same reasons and I know how much it hurt every one of the three of you when the little Takatori showed his true colours. I know how I’d feel if it had been Nagi or Farf.” 

He shrugged slightly. “As for the future, Brad always plays his cards close to his chest but I do know that this time we’re relying on you and Aya to hone your skills before we can be sure how things will pan out. You’re both very strong, natural talents but you need to work on controlling and directing your talents. Also, I know that Aya-chan is imperative to whatever Brad has planned. That’s why we tried to take her with us after the battle with the Elders.” 

“Has he always kept all of you as in the dark as we are? I know he’s a secretive bastard, but...” Yohji flicked his own cigarillo into the street, “it irks me that he won’t tell us anything beyond how much we’re needed for his plans to succeed.” 

“Yeah, he’s always a secretive bastard,” Schuldig said with one of his smirks. He chuckled at some private thought before becoming serious once more. “But I will say this, as annoying as he is, he’s never led us wrong.” 

“So you’ve said several times,” Yohji pointed out. 

He changed subjects, “Ever wish you had that ability? That you could walk through a minefield and never step on one because you knew where they all were?” 

Schuldig shook his head. “If I keep repeating myself it’s only to get the truth into that thick head of yours!” 

“As for wishing I was a pre-cog, no fucking way! Can you imagine seeing six or seven versions of a tiny part of the future and then having to make the right choice as to which one should come to pass for the good of yourself and your team? That’s pretty much what he has to do nearly every day of his life. And he’s tired and needs to be able to see the future and simply let it take its course.” 

Schuldig sighed slightly. “I know we were your enemies when you were part of Weiss but, like you, we were simply doing what we had to do. Did you ever ask yourselves why we never killed you? We could have done so many times. Aya could tell you how close he came until Brad saw a vision that included him.” 

“Like Crawford, Aya keeps a lot of things to himself. No, he never said a thing that would lead me to believe anyone ever got close to doing him in. He...” the blond closed his eyes, “he’s not in the habit of talking, even now.” He pulled out another cigarillo, realized how many he was smoking, considered putting it back but lit it instead. 

He took a long soothing drag off the newly lit cigarillo, exhaled slowly, “I guess any power has its drawbacks. But if I could choose, I’d have wanted to be a precog. 

“Being Aya’s lover is very much like living life in a minefield. One false step and there’s an explosion.” 

“Yeah, he’s pretty high-maintenance I’d imagine,” Schuldig agreed, “but deep inside he worries about the same things as the rest of us.” 

He studied his nails for a moment or two before speaking again and then it was almost as if to himself. “Most people who know me or come across me soon know that I’m a telepath. Almost as many see that I can move with telepathic speed. What most either forget or never find out is that I’m also an empath.” 

He looked up then and looked directly at Yohji. “I can’t read Aya’s thoughts. He’s one of those people with natural shields.” He shrugged. “Understandable when you consider his power. What I can do, though, is read his emotions and I promise you, Kudoh, that he loves you more than his sister even. He has done for years.” 

“I know,” Yohji admitted softly. “I’ve got some empathic ability too, remember. It’s not his feelings for me I doubt, it’s my ability to be what he needs. Between that and my sorry ass inability not to piss him off at every turn I don’t know if I can hang on to him, and gods, Schuldig, I just can’t imagine a day without him.” 

He turned away to hide the up-welling of tears in his eyes, blinked and shoved his sunglasses back up his nose. Smoke and mirrors to hide the emotions, but he knew damned well that of them all, Schuldig wasn’t someone he could hide anything from. 

“Do you love Farfarello like this?” he questioned, showing Schuldig that he was really beginning to think of them as being as capable of gentler emotion as any other person. 

Schuldig lit another cigarillo of his own and blew out a cloud of smoke before replying. “When Farfarello and I first got together as lovers, I felt pretty much as you do. I wasn’t sure if I could be his bitch and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Add to that the fact that the man is always unpredictable and I defy your minefield to be as dangerous as mine was.” 

“I, too, wasn’t sure if I could be what he wanted and, like you, I thought I knew exactly what he wanted.” He smiled gently, an unusual expression for him. “Turned out that I was completely wrong so I stopped worrying about it. That’s when we stopped annoying the hell out of each other and found what worked for both of us.” 

“Maybe we’ll get to that point someday,” Yohji replied. 

For a few minutes he just stood there silently, then he said, “We have to do something about Aya-chan. She’s lonely.” 

“It’s not up to us, Yohji. We’re both spoken for.” 

Schuldig chuckled softly. “I’m often surprised by how fundamentally alike our two teams are. Aya and Brad could have come from the same mould and Ken is almost as psychotic as Farf. You and I are fine till it comes to our respective lovers and did you ever notice the same uptight little prick syndrome in both Nagi and the little Takatori? We were like mirror images of each other.” 

Yohji considered that for a moment. Oddly he found, in retrospect, that it was true. "It's a small, weird world." 

Schuldig chuckled. “At least neither team was ever like Schrient,” he said soothingly. 

Yohji grinned, “Well, Aya is bitchy enough to be one of them, but yeah, you’re very right there.” The memory of choking Neu returned, but this time it lacked the power to hurt the blond assassin. 

He had Aya now and the love they had was far more powerful than the memory of any phantom Asuka, or even the ghost of Asuka herself.


	7. You Could be Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Brad was seated behind the big oak desk he’d bought for his use. Papers were neatly stacked to one side, a pen and ink fountain laying neatly on one corner of the blotter. As always he was immaculate, his trendy 1840s suit perfect, the dark fabric offset by the gold of the vest he wore under the sombre black waistcoat and the frames of his glasses. Those were still from their own era, as was the gun he wore in its shoulder holster under the coat. 

He sighed, missing the modern convenience of a computer and pass codes, of being able to trade stocks by internet. 

Time for that in the future. 

*Schuldig, please tell Abyssinian I want to talk to him. His playtime with Kudoh will have to wait. This is important.* 

*He’s actually playing chess with his sister but I’ve passed the message on.* 

A moment later the door was thrust open and Aya marched into the room scowling direly. “What do you want?” 

Brad regarded the red-haired man, “Sit,” he instructed, motioning to the wingback chair in front of his desk. 

Aya remained standing. “I’m not a dog, Crawford, nor, before you say it yet again am I a bitch.” 

Crawford was done playing nice with the man. He came over the desk faster than anyone but his own team mates would have believed, to grab the ex-Weiss by the front of his shirt. “No, you aren’t a dog or a bitch, but you are a member of this team now, and you will learn to obey me if you don’t want us all to die!” 

He shoved the smaller man toward the chair, “Now sit down!” 

Aya sat down but continued to glare at Crawford. “I am prepared to follow you, Crawford, as you seem to know what you’re doing, but you need to modify your attitude.” Then he supposed he did too. “So, what do you want?” 

“Just remember my attitude has kept my team alive against Essett and Rosenkreuz. You couldn’t even keep ahead of the little shit Takatori’s scheming,” he reminded the other team leader as he straightened his suit and sat down behind his desk. 

“And,” he continued, “what I want is simple. I need someone that can help me keep a rein on our united team. You are, of course, my first choice.” 

“If I was so useless, why am I your first choice?” Aya asked. “There doesn’t seem to be any ‘of course’ about it.” 

He could have argued that he’d never doubted who was behind Zen’s abortive actions on Hokkaido but he didn’t. It was no argument when dealing with a pre-cog. He’d known in his heart that Omi had become his enemy the day he protected his brother against them but had done nothing about it, had even tried to believe in him and call him Omi again. 

“I did not say you were useless, Abyssinian, I said you haven’t had the same success at handling problems as I’ve had. But you are good at keeping your team mates in line and that is what I need from you.” 

“I haven’t had your advantages,” Aya said with a shrug. “As for my team mates, Ken follows Nagi’s lead and Kai yours, so you’re talking about Yohji and Zeshin and I’m perfectly capable of dealing with either one of them.” 

“No, you haven’t. But you have advantages of your own now, don’t you? One that needs training to be fully effective. And that brings up another reason we need to talk. You, your sister and Kudoh all need to start learning how to control those powers of yours. Nagi is doing well enough with Hidaka, and at least our resident pyro hasn’t burned any thing else of importance.” 

Aya sat forward in his seat, his attention fully captured now. “I thought the whole idea of moving times was so that we could train but you’ve been too interested in poker and business deals to initiate anything. And Zeshin is only half trained in his skills. I can feel that but have no idea how to proceed.” 

“Training is going to be...” Brad considered how to phrase what he wanted to say carefully, “tricky. We were trained by harsh taskmasters, and that sort of thing isn’t very helpful, though it does get results. Obviously.” He steepled his fingers, looking very thoughtful. “I thought, perhaps the best way to go about this would be for the three of us to take on one of you in a pupil and mentor fashion. Nagi will keep teaching Ken, while Schuldig will work with Kudoh and I will assist you. Farfarello and Kai can assist Aya-chan in getting used to her powers which will, in the long run, help Kai also. 

“As for Zeshin, he’s yours to train as you see fit. I believe that was your wish.” 

“Yes, it was,” Aya agreed, “but I’m not sure how to bring out his full potential after what I learned that day in the elevator in Singapore. He was never properly trained before and I know, even now, that he would do anything I asked of him and protect Aya-chan but I feel there is more to him than that.” 

He was silent for a moment as he digested the rest of what Crawford had said. Could he trust Yohji to Schuldig? They seemed to be friendly enough. As for himself being trained by Crawford… He sighed. “I agree to the mentoring thing,” he said finally. 

There was a pleased glitter in Crawford’s eyes as he said, “I knew you would.” 

He studied the red-haired man for a moment, then picked up his coffee and took a sip. “You can manipulate time. We have already used this talent of yours, in conjunction with the ability that Kudoh has of boosting another talent’s capability. What I want you to do is try and use this talent of yours and develop the capacity to selectively manipulate time in a more controlled manner. In short, I want you to be able to move yourself forward or backward by tiny increments, or years.” 

Brad paused to let the ex Weiss take in what he’d said. “Then we’re going to see if that lovely ability you’ve got can be focused on someone or something else. I think it can, but even I’m not positive about any outcome involving that aspect of your power.” He frowned, “Trying to read just your future is hard for me, probably because you can manipulate time and that distorts what I’m able to see.” 

Aya wasn’t certain if that fact was a comfort or not. Those who had once been Schwartz kept telling him that Crawford always led them right because of his talent yet now the man was saying that it didn’t work too well on him. 

“When do you want to start?” he asked. Then something else struck him. “What power does my sister have?” No wonder Crawford had brought her to him. He should have known that the American wouldn’t have done it for altruistic reasons. 

Crawford set his coffee aside. “Now. As for your sister, I’m sure you realize she didn’t age while she was in that coma. That is her power. Effectively, she could be immortal.” He waited a second before adding, “Much like Prodigy.” 

“So that’s why you tried to take her from the museum,” Aya mused aloud. Suddenly it made more sense why Schwartz had wanted an unconscious girl, why the elders had wanted her for their appalling ritual. “It was Schuldig who dug into her mind deep enough to wake her, wasn’t it?” 

“Yes, among other reasons. We didn’t want her killed.” He gave Aya a faint smile, “And we knew Sakura had taken her place of course.” 

Aya shook his head. “The silly little bitch did that for me not you nor even for Aya-chan.” He sighed slightly. “So what power does Kai have?” He frowned suddenly. “Was he sent to Hokkaido to be killed for being a ‘talent’ like the rest of us?” 

“Of course she did it for you. She was madly in lust with you, Fujimiya. Still is, not that it matters. 

“Kai is a healer of sorts. Not a powerful one, but his ability will suffice for our purposes.” 

“And Hokkaido?” Aya prompted. 

The American sighed. “What about it?” 

“Was Bengal sent there and to Weiss because he was a ‘talent’?” 

Brad just looked at the other man for a moment then said, “No. He came on his own... but... there were things said that would lead him there as surely as iron is drawn to a magnet. Just knowing you were alive was enough.” The American paused for effect then added, “Takatori is still alive.” 

A strangely satisfied expression crossed Aya’s features. “Unlike Ken to make such a mistake,” he said, “but it does mean I can do the job myself, one day. I owe him for all of us but especially for what he did to Ken and Zeshin.” 

“Yes. What he did to you and Kudoh was unpleasant, but what he did to the other pair was worthy of Esset or even Rosenkruez. It would seem that they aren’t the only one’s who were manipulated for the amusement of people who enjoy such twisted games.” 

“Are you trying to tell me that you don’t enjoy them?” Aya asked sceptically. “I find that rather hard to believe.” 

“Not at the expense of people who depend on me, no,” Crawford replied without hesitation and with total candour. “I wouldn’t treat Schuldig or Farfarello like that, and Nagi...” He paused, met Abyssinian’s gaze. “I’ve been protecting him from Esset and Rosenkreuz from the moment I put hands on him so Nagi wouldn’t be subjected to the things the rest of us experienced.” 

Aya’s brows rose slightly. “So that’s why he always seemed different to the rest of you. He was just as sneaky but less prepared to play silly mind games or kill needlessly.” 

“In point of fact, I have never asked or expected Nagi to kill. Not once,” Crawford replied. “He has free will in what he does. But the other two,” Brad actually sighed, “they are incapable of functioning without someone to guide them. We were toy’s of the Elders, we are all broken in one way or another.” The smile he gave Aya was bitter, sad, “Damaged goods, like Weiss.” 

“Every one of us damaged by the Takatori,” Aya agreed, “though the others didn’t find out till later that they’d been behind the game-rigging that brought Ken down or Riot that had caused the death of Yohji’s first love. And the surviving member is still trying to finish the job!” His hands clenched into fists as he thought back to the way ‘Omi’ had gained their trust. 

“There is one thing I think you should bear in mind, a fact that I don’t think any of you have ever considered,” Crawford commented softly, “Reiji was part of Esset.” 

He let that sink in for a moment, “And if he was part Esset, doesn’t it stand to reason that other members of their clan were also part of Esset or perhaps even part of Rosenkreuz?” It wasn’t something Brad had felt any of the Weiss were ready to hear when they first threw their lot in with Schwarz, but it was imperative that the former Kritiker operatives understand exactly how things stood, and who they’d actually been working for. 

Aya was silent for several moments as he thought about how he should reply. Should he let Crawford know exactly how much he had worked out for himself. Trust was so hard now and yet, so far, the pre-cog hadn’t broken his word to any of them. 

“We had all figured Reiji out at the end,” he said, then thought some more. 

“I had wondered how deep the connection between Kritiker and Esset went,” he said slowly. “I knew that Botan and Takatori Shuichi were clean and believed in what they were doing, also Manx. Birman I wouldn’t trust any more than I’d trust a cobra and the rest of Kritiker was faceless as far as we were concerned. I actually went to a cyber-café and did some digging on one occasion. That’s when I found out that Takatori Saijou had founded Kritiker and when I first realised there had to be a link to Esset, at least.” 

He snorted ironically. “I wasn’t prepared to be a pawn in that particular game of chess and so I went ahead and killed Takatori Reiji.” 

“Essentially Kritiker started out as a vehicle for Esset to manage the political climate in Japan. That was years ago, and the organization drifted a little from their original goal under the auspices of Takatori Shuichi. But he was still one of them, even if he didn’t see eye to eye with his brother. He preferred a different approach and despised the Elders nearly as much as we Schwarz did.” 

The American picked up his cooling coffee, “Would it surprise you to know that his death saddened me? He was very nearly an ally to Schwarz. Unfortunately his death was inevitable. While he need not have died, I saw no future for any of us if he did not die at Reiji’s hands.” 

“I’m guessing that if he’d lived, we would have died on Saijou’s orders or something like that and then you wouldn’t have our talents to use against Rosenkreuz.” 

“No, Shuichi would have ordered you eliminated once your usefulness to him had come to an end. And it ended with Reiji’s death.” 

Brad took a sip of the coffee, set the cup down. “I think we’ve talked about this enough for now. It’s in the past--“ he actually grinned, “or the future depending on how you choose to look at it.” 

Shuichi’s perfidy not surprising Aya in the least he agreed to the change of subject without further comment. “So you want me to be your second-in-command, is that it?” 

“Yes. I would also like it if you could back time up a bit and reheat this coffee.” Brad set the cup down on the desk and watched Aya expectantly. 

“Wouldn’t that take us back to when I entered the room and a rerun of the whole conversation again?” Aya asked. “If I simply send the coffee back, you won’t be able to drink it anyway.” 

Brad smirked, his dark eyes glittering in amusement. “Good, at least you understand what is, and is not possible.” He stood, picked up the cup and motioned for Aya to follow him. “Now we will go and actually have you practice. But first I want a refill on my coffee.” 

Aya rose to his feet feeling a bit like a naughty five-year-old. Crawford always seemed to have that effect on him these days. 

After refilling his coffee Crawford led Aya into what passed for their back yard, the scent of horse manure thick in the air. Crawford frowned but stepped into the grass at the back door, “While making money here is all well and good, I’m getting heartily sick of being in this time period. Which is all the more reason for us to make your training go as quickly as we can.” 

“I’m in full agreement with you there,” Aya said. “I would very much like to get back to a more civilised time… and country. I really need a proper hot bath.” 

That brought a soft chuckle from Crawford, “I’d love a decent meal. Steak is all well and good, but I’d really love to dig into a large plate of sushi and a steaming bowl of miso,” he admitted. “I’m fairly sure Kudoh misses his junk food, and I overheard Ken bemoaning the lack of soccer games and TV. 

“He’s making good progress, and in truth he was the one that concerned me the most. Pyrokinetics have a notoriously difficult time learning to manipulate their abilities.” 

“He was a professional goalkeeper,” Aya said, “and that would have taken discipline. Although he has a short fuse and a hot temper (if you’ll excuse the unintentional puns) Ken is much more focused than most give him credit for.” He smiled slightly. “Although the constant soccer on TV is not something I’m missing.” 

He was quiet for a moment before frowning slightly. “Zeshin worries me. Did they really breed him to be that docile? It goes totally counter to the instincts he has gained from his cat side.” 

“No. He wasn’t bred to be docile, but the training that Rosenkruez inflicts can alter the mind of anyone.” He shook his head, “You should have seen Schuldig when I acquired him. He’s recovered, but for the first few months--“ Brad went silent remembering too much of his own past, too many things that had happened, glad that he’d managed to spare Nagi the horrors that he and the German telepath had survived. 

“Work with him. He’s good, but with you to teach him he could be better.” He gave Aya a speculative look, “You know, it might be beneficial for us all to train together in respects to fighting styles. I think you could learn a lot from Farfarello, and I suspect Schuldig could learn a great deal from both Hidaka and Kudoh.” 

Aya nodded. The telepath was fast but, in his opinion, both he and Crawford relied too much on their guns and talent to carry them through. He knew exactly what Farfarello could teach them, that the way to lose a fight was to be afraid of getting hurt or dying. But Yohji, Ken and himself were way beyond that point by now. 

Styles though, that was a different proposition. Farfarello’s style was very street fighter whereas his own was almost totally traditional kendo. On the whole, Crawford’s idea was a good one. 

“Well, let’s get on with this shall we?” Brad said as he walked into the yard. “What I want you to do is go forward in time a few minutes. It’s a simple matter of focusing your mind on what you want to achieve. The same way you got us here.” The man smiled, “But this time you won’t have so much power at your disposal since Kudoh won’t be playing supercharger.” 

Aya concentrated and Crawford blurred in his vision. There was the feeling of disorientation he always got when he played around with time and then he was in the yard but he knew he had gone forward in time by about five minutes. 

The world seemed the same but it wasn’t, not quite. The bird that had been sitting on the eaves of the house was no longer there and although Crawford appeared to be there, was there, he had moved several feet to the left. Taking in these details, he transported himself back to when he had been before, careful to add the few seconds he had taken to look around. 

He gave Crawford the details on his return in a tone of utter boredom. Seconds and minutes were easy. It was days, weeks, years that created the dangerous paradoxes. 

“Excellent.” Brad walked closer to the red-haired man. “While you were gone, I took the liberty of trying to see you and I did.” There was an odd glint in his gaze as he added, “This may prove to be far more advantageous than I realized.” 

“As long as you remember that nobody can be in two places at one time,” Aya said. “We do not have doppelgangers roaming about in our own time period. We simply vanished.” 

Crawford gave Abyssinian a long suffering look, “Please credit me with a bit of intelligence, Fujimiya.” 

He was just about to say something else when his gaze went completely blank, and he swayed slightly on his feet. 

Knowing the signs of one of Crawford’s visions by now, Aya merely stood ready to catch him should he fall. He was pleased that the man who could be nothing else but their leader grasped the problems of time manipulation. So few people did. Even Yohji, normally extremely bright, had made a few crazy suggestions for its use. 

Crawford staggered, his knees starting to buckle as he came out of a powerful vision, the man’s face ashen. 

Aya caught him and half carried him to the rocker on the porch where he sat him down before handing him his coffee. “An important one, huh?” 

Crawford took the coffee, noting that his hands were shaking from the force of the vision he’d just had. “Crossroad,” was all he could manage to say. 

He sipped the coffee, mind filled with a riot of images that he was still sorting out. 

Aya remained silent, allowing Crawford the mental space he needed to sort through the visions. Crossroad sounded to him like they were going to be making some major moves and decisions very soon. 

When his heartbeat had slowed and his breathing was more normal, the American looked up at the red-head. “We’ve got trouble coming. Everette’s gunslinger is lusting after Aya-chan.” 

“We already knew that,” Aya said, his eyes as cold as ice. “You even said he’d either meet my katana or Yohji’s gun. So what has changed in your vision?” 

“In this vision he had help. Someone that Everette is going to hire.” He got to his feet, and headed into the house. “Another gunslinger with a talent and we need to either kill him, or enlist him on our side.” 

He paused at the door, “Crossroads. If we get him first, he’s the answer to a few of our problems. If they get him first, he becomes our most dangerous opponent.” 

Before Aya could answer, Brad turned to him, gripped him by the upper arms and said, “Kudoh will have to learn to share what is his.” Then he kissed Aya, his grip harsh, the kiss itself almost gentle. 

Aya stood still and unresponsive as his mind went over Crawford’s words. Yohji already shared him with Zeshin but he couldn’t see the blond’s pride allowing him to share with Crawford as well. His life was turning into a real mess and he should have remained the closed off celibate ‘virgin’ that Yohji had always accused him of being. 

* * * * * * * 

Schuldig had received a mental command from Brad telling him to start Kudoh’s training so he deliberately took them both away from the distractions of Sacramento and into the quiet of the surrounding countryside. 

Yohji was happy enough to start his training and was a fast learner, grasping the concepts of what he could and could not do very quickly. 

Having made him work hard for an hour he took pity on him and suggested they both take a break. 

The blond sat down under the tree they’d been close to and leaned back against the trunk, a shaking hand fumbling for one of the cigarillos in his pocket. 

“This is more work than the training exercises Kritiker use to send us on sometimes.” 

“Because you are working with your mind rather than your body,” Schuldig told him. “This is a piece of cake compared to what we went through in our training. Rosenkreuz were not gentle trainers and we were only children.” He lapsed into silence, not wanting to dwell on the horrors of the past too much. 

Yohji nodded, as the telepath sat down beside him. “I guess only the toughest...” he hesitated looking for the right word, “candidates survive.” His jade gaze went hard, “And they’re still doing it, torturing innocents, turning children into killers.” 

He looked at Schuldig, reached out and curved the back of his hand around the nape of German’s neck and leaned in to kiss him. 

It was something he’d been wanting to do since their little talk back in Bangkok, and with Farfarello back at the house he figured if he was going to fully satisfy his curiosity now was as good a time as any. 

Schuldig stiffened under his touch before relaxing and returning the kiss. When they broke apart he laughed, a little shakily. “You trying to get us both killed?” 

“I was just trying to satisfy my own curiosity.” He touched Schuldig’s mouth with the tip of a finger, “I’ve always loved the shape of your mouth. Even when you were sneering at us. Or maybe because I think your sneer is kind of sexy.” He grinned, “Crazy, ne?” 

“Completely fucking nuts,” Schuldig agreed although he didn’t move away. “You always were the Weiss party animal, weren’t you?” 

“Yeah, that was me. Drinking and fucking everything in sight. And if things had kept going the way they were, I’d probably have gotten killed by some angry boyfriend or melted my liver and died.” He shrugged, “But here we are instead.” 

He looked away as he lit his cigarillo, “I’d do more than kiss you if I didn’t have to worry about being gutted like the catch of the day.” He inhaled smoke, let it drift away from his lips in a thin stream. “Too bad we never hooked up before. I think we could have had some interesting times.” 

Schuldig smirked. “I’ve been with Farf for longer than we’ve known you, Kudoh, so the likelihood of ‘hooking up’ was always going to be unlikely. Besides, I have no real desire to end up as kebab on Aya’s sword.” 

“Hey, he fools around with Zeshin, I should be able to have a bit of fun too.” The blond took another drag off the cigarillo, watched the smoke drift away. 

He saw a motion from the corner of his eye and turned to see what it was. To his credit he didn’t go pale or start to shake when he realized Farfarello was leaning against a tree about fifty feet away, just watching the two of them. 

“Fuck,” he muttered softly. “Your lover boy’s here.” 

“I know,” Schuldig said without even a twitch. “And Zeshin isn’t your biggest rival. Crawford is.” Raising his voice slightly he called to Farfarello. “Come and join us, Farf.” 

“Crawford? Great. Just fucking great.” Yohji muttered as Berserker came over to join them. 

The Irishman didn’t sit, he just stood over them, single amber eye gazing down at the former Weiss. There was an odd look on his face. Then he crouched down and touched Schuldig’s mouth. 

“Kiss him, Schuldig,” he murmured, “I want to be closer this time.” 

Schuldig smirked again and complied with Farfarello’s request, pulling Yohji closer and holding him still as he pressed his lips against those of the ex-Weiss assassin. *Why?* he asked over his link with his lover. 

In answer to Schuldig’s silent question Farfarello stroked his hand through the blond’s hair, watching the sunlight turn it to molten gold. 

Schuldig could feel Yohji tense as Berserker touched his hair, but the man didn’t try and pull away, which showed a great deal of trust on his part, and he was returning the kiss with enthusiasm. 

*If he follows us home, I might let you keep him.* 

*He might not want to be kept, Farf.* Useless to refute his growing attraction for Yohji and stupid to even try. Were they all going stir crazy or was it just the presence of so many gorgeous men, all stuck in one house far from everything they knew, that was making so many of them twitchy. Even Crawford was not immune. 

*Well I think he wouldn’t mind being borrowed,* Farfarello remarked as he edged a bit closer to his lover and Balinese. He waited a few heartbeats then he slid a hand down Kudoh’s back in a caress meant to test the man’s reaction. 

Yohji kept kissing Schuldig, wary of Berserker, but putting enough faith into the telepath and Crawford to believe they’d prevent the Irishman from killing him since he was so important to their future. 

But when Berserker’s hand slid down his thigh heading for more intimate territory he dropped a hand down to stop it from reaching it’s intended goal. A goal that was getting very evident inside the jeans he was wearing. 

*Kitty’s not ready to play with both of us. Not yet anyway.* 

*Hardly surprising seeing as he won’t even get involved in Aya and Zeshin’s games. And Kai was ignored too. Maybe he just has a thing for redheads.* 

*I hadn’t considered that,* Farfarello admitted as he touched the hand that had taken hold of his wrist. It was a strong hand with a few faint scars from cuts. Probably caused by the harigane. 

Yohji lay back, pulling Schuldig with him so that the German was on top of him, a line of defence between himself and anything the unpredictable Berserker might do. 

“Oh no you don’t!” Schuldig exclaimed as he used his enhanced speed to free himself. “You’re not using me as a human shield! Anyway, if Farf was going to hurt you he’d have done so by now.” 

He turned his bright blue gaze on the Weiss blond, his expression speculative. “What exactly do you have against threesomes?” 

“I... ummm... never considered a threesome that might include Farfarello,” he admitted, choosing to be honest rather than make a pointless attempt to lie to the telepath. 

He did, however, try to hide the fact that he’d considered one involving Schuldig and Crawford, or a foursome with Aya in the mix. But it had been only a vague idea, one that occasionally surfaced when he’d had a few too many beers. 

Schuldig laughed suddenly. “Not as straight as you like to make out, are you, Kudoh? Nice pictures you have in there!” He chuckled again and shared some of the images in Yohji’s mind with Farfarello. 

“Although I am a little hurt that you don’t find Farf an object of desire.” There was more he could say to tease the blond, like the fact that Kai had the hots for him or that Aya was looking for ways to make Zeshin a little less submissive and more prepared to fight back occasionally, but he kept these facts to himself for now. 

“I’m sorry but one blade wielding man in my life is very close to being one too many.” Yohji turned a speculative eye on Farfarello, “Not that he’s unattractive, but the thought of pissing both him and Aya off at one time makes my blood go cold.” 

Farfarello touched the blond’s face, “I wouldn’t cut you. You’re too pretty to damage, like my Schuldig,” he said before taking a grip in Schuldig’s hair and bringing his head closer for a kiss. 

Schuldig returned the kiss with enthusiasm before pulling away slightly and standing as if listening. “Party’s over, boys. Looks like there’s a new talent on the block.” 

Yohji frowned. “What are you talking about?” 

Farfarello was on his feet instantly, his thoughts sharp in the German’s mind as he asked, *Where?* 

*Settle, Farf. Crawford thinks this one maybe useful to us. Right now he’s being recruited by Everette. We’d better get back and see what Vater wants us to do.* 

He smirked at Yohji. “Everette is recruiting a new talent, one that might just end up being useful. We need to go back to the house.” 

Farfarello reached down, offering Yohji a hand up. He knew the blond didn’t need it, but he wanted to try and prove to the former Weiss that, whatever had gone on in their past as enemies, it was over. They were team mates now. Schwarz because that was how Crawford wanted it. 

“Let’s go then,” Yohji said as took the other man’s hand and accepted Farfarello’s help, rising with the powerful tug on his arm.


	8. Knocking on Heaven's Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Aya made sure that Brad was comfortable and had another cup of coffee in his hands before dropping his shields to let Schuldig in. 

*You’re to come back to the house now. Tell the others.* 

*Yeah, I felt the new talent arrive. We’re on our way and I’ll get the others moving.* 

Aya sent satisfaction over the link before raising his shields again. “Schuldig is getting them on the move,” he told Brad. “They should all be here in a few moments.” 

He wasn’t prepared to talk about any possible relationship between himself and the pre-cog. The thought of Yohji’s reaction to that idea still freaked him out too much for him to voice any thoughts on the issue at all. 

He knew the American wanted him, had done for some time, and part of him was intrigued enough to want to explore the idea further but Yohji was hurt enough by sharing him with Zeshin even though he would never agree to do the things that Zeshin did for him. 

Even that was bothering him. He felt he was using the boy in exactly the same way as Takatori Mamoru had, for his own ends. The thought didn’t sit well with him and he was trying to wean Zeshin off his emotional dependence on him. 

Brad acknowledged Aya’s comment with a brief nod, then took a sip of the hot coffee. He was feeling the leaden weight of tiredness that always followed a very powerful vision like the one he’d just experienced. A vision he was still trying to sort out in his mind, mentally tracking the web work of possibilities he’d seen unfold. 

“It’s imperative that we manage to bring this man to us, before Everette can enlist his help. He’s dangerous and he has a powerful and rare talent that makes him even more deadly.” 

“Does he know how to use it?” Aya asked, knowing from his own experience that it was rare for an untrained talent to be able to use their gift, curse, whichever it was, effectively. He had managed to use his only in extreme situations before he’d started to train and learn exactly what he could and could not do. 

“Unfortunately, yes. And he uses them to very good effect and with a level of control equal to Nagi at his best.” 

“Them? He has more than one then?” Having accepted what he was, Aya was now very curious about other talents and their particular skills. 

“Yes. He has some ability as a telepath, which helps him to outguess other gunmen. His most dangerous power, however, is his ability to become incorporeal. He has such perfect control of it that he can manipulate any part of his body so that he takes no damage from, say, being stabbed, or shot.” 

Aya’s brows shot up at that news. Very dangerous indeed and extremely hard to kill. He opened his mouth to say as much but shut it as Kai slid into the room. 

“Schuldig said you wanted to see us all,” he said. 

Aya nodded and motioned for the younger assassin to sit down while they waited for the others. 

Nagi and Ken were the next to arrive and the telekinetic immediately found a seat without saying a word although he did shoot a worried frown at Brad before relaxing slightly. Aya supposed he was used to Brad’s briefings after his visions and, although obviously tired, the pre-cog looked a hell of a lot better than he had when they’d first joined Schwarz. And they had joined Schwarz, he realised. 

As he waited, he mulled that over in his mind. It was almost liberating to be unashamedly black rather than pretend to be white. The targets still seemed to consist of the scum of the earth and at least now they had some choice. 

They had considered Schwarz their enemies for so long and yet they had, in reality, probably been one of the only reasons that Weiss had survived at all. After all, where had his talented bodyguards been the night that Takatori Reiji had died? And they’d almost fought as a team against the Elders. It had been after, when they’d tried to take Aya-chan, that the fight had broken out. 

That led to another mental question. Was Manx really that bad a shot or had she intended Crawford to live? So much that he’d never questioned before… 

He was brought back to a sense of his own surroundings by Zeshin’s quiet arrival. 

The boy paused just inside the door, then went to sit at Aya’s feet. 

Yohji frowned but refrained from making any comment. 

“Good. Now that everyone is here,” Crawford began, “there are a few things we need to discuss. 

“First, is the new talent in town. A man of considerable ability. A dangerous biokinetic that can manipulate his physical body and make himself insubstantial. As I was telling Abyssinian here, it makes him very dangerous. Couple that with some telepathic ability and he’s proven lethal to any normal he’s gone up against.” 

“Has Everette recruited him already?” Nagi asked, while Schuldig, noticing the frown on Yohji’s face sent him a mental reprimand. *You’re hardly in any position to be jealous, Kudoh, not when you consider the events of earlier this afternoon.* 

The blond’s jade eyes regarded Schuldig, Yohji letting his thoughts flow naturally, *Why not just announce to the room that we were exploring one another’s tonsils? I’m sure everyone but Aya heard you just now. And it’s not jealousy, either. I’m just wondering how long before Aya either gets bored with him, or regrets what he did.* 

Brad frowned at Schuldig, *Not now, please, either of you. This is not the time,* but he knew Schuldig would pick up on the slight amusement as the American pictured Schuldig locked in mouth to mouth exploration with Kudoh. The idea interested the dark-haired man, but, it really wasn’t the time for them to discuss the newly emerging sexual dynamics of Schwarz. 

“Everette has approached him yes. The man has a reputation that has followed him from San Francisco and points east of California. He’s called the Phantom Gun, but his real name is Cole Randall. He’s half white and half red.” 

“So not likely to fit in too well with Everette’s bigoted bunch,” Aya observed calmly. He knew some sort of mental conversation was going on but kept his shields firmly in place. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to know, at least not until they’d sorted out the problem at hand. 

Schuldig was unrepentant and merely winked at Brad while smirking at Yohji. *Actually, no, only Brad overheard us. I’m not that lacking in finesse! Now concentrate before Vater gets mad at us both.* 

“That is the one advantage we have,” Crawford replied. “It’s our ace in the hole. Some of Everette’s men, even Everette himself, won’t treat Randall as an equal and that will irk him. So, between the time they manage to irritate him, and the time he considers the money worth the annoyance is our window of opportunity to approach him and make a better, less annoying offer.” 

Crawford pushed his glasses up, and none of them could miss the smirk on his face as he said, “And that’s why I’m sending Abyssinian and Schuldig to enlist him.” 

“Thus showing him your propensity for redheads?” Schuldig enquired sweetly before becoming more serious. “It should prove that we don’t give a tinker’s fart about colour or race at least.” 

“Actually what it will show him is that, despite the fact I’m an American, I trust my foreign associates to carry out business arrangements for me. You have to admit that, the fact my second and third in command are not American, and one isn’t white, should do a lot to impress him.” 

“That rather depends on what he’s looking for in any arrangements,” Aya pointed out, “but then, doubtless you’ve had a vision or two regarding the way we should proceed.” 

Brad only smiled, “Yes, doubtless I have.” There was a pleased glitter in his dark eyes. “Why don’t you take Aya-chan with you? I’m sure she’d like the chance to get out of the house.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Yohji remarked. “I caught Everette’s gunman slinking around here today. Schuldig saw him too.” 

Aya narrowed his eyes as he frowned suspiciously at Crawford. “My sister is not part of the deal, Crawford.” 

Brad blinked, “Deal? What are you talking about, Fujimiya? She’s been asking to go out, and I thought now would be a good time for it. Her presence isn’t necessary, but,” he shrugged, “she has been complaining about being cooped up.” 

“He’s right about that, Aya. Your sister is very unhappy,” Zeshin added very softly. “She’s up in her room crying.” 

Although still eyeing Crawford suspiciously, Zeshin’s words struck Aya like a knife and he realised just how hard this time and place must be for his sister and just how lonely the outgoing girl must be. He had a twinge of guilt as he finally grasped the fact that he hadn’t even thought about her well-being until now. Well, not in any other but a slightly possessive, big brother knows best way. 

“Okay,” he said, “we’ll take her with us.” 

Crawford paused, gaze sweeping the men in the room, “Aya is officially my second in command. Should something happen to both myself and Fujimiya, Schuldig is in control of Schwarz, with the assistance of Yohji. These are my orders, and you are to obey them. Is that understood?” 

Farfarello shot a worried glance at Schuldig, *I don’t like this.* 

Schuldig shrugged. *It makes sense. The kitties are more likely to take notice of Abyssinian than they are of me. Besides, I don’t really want the responsibility so we’re going to make damned sure they both stay alive and their usual ‘friendly’ selves. Or is something else on your mind?* 

*He’s up to something. Think about it. Why would he even tell us this unless he was planning for something?* 

“Why am I hearing no answers?” Brad asked. 

*You could have a point, Farf, but I think it’s the right decision.* 

Nagi raised a tentative hand. “I’ve no argument with your decision,” he said, “but it already works that way, anyway. Why bring it up now?” 

Yohji shook his head and reached into his pocket for a smoke, “As if that will happen.” 

“He’s a precog, Yohji. Not a god,” Ken remarked. 

The former Weiss snorted, “Could have passed for one in ancient Greece.” He reached over to touch Ken’s shoulder, “I’m out of matches, give me a light?” 

“And let you smoke in the house? Nor a chance, Kudoh.” 

Schuldig sniggered. “Enough response for you, Vater?” he asked while Nagi sighed as he waited for an answer to his question. 

Kai remained silent but there was a slight frown on his face. 

“Yes, I suppose it will do since I’m not likely to get more than that,” Crawford replied, as he watched the brunette Weiss actually cuddling with Nagi. 

He sighed. Everyone had what they wanted but him. 

“Well that’s all for now. We’ll be meeting later tonight over dinner.” 

Nagi sighed as he realised that Brad wasn’t going to give them any reasons and Kai’s frown deepened. 

Aya unfolded himself from his chair with his usual grace and headed for the stairs and his sister. *We’ll be ready to go in five minutes, Schuldig,* he sent as he went. 

Zeshin got to his feet the second Aya stood, the boy just as graceful as the older man. He followed Aya out. 

“Do you want to take the buggy for Aya-chan, or are you going to walk?” Farfarello asked as he followed the pair of red-heads out with Yohji right behind him. 

“I’ll ask her what she wants to do, but I’m guessing she’ll prefer to walk,” Aya told the Irishman. 

“Nagi, I’d like to talk to you,” Brad began then looked pointedly at Ken, “alone if you don’t mind.” 

Nagi sighed, not wanting to keep things from the now very sensitive jock. “Okay,” he said, then to Ken, “I won’t be long.” 

Kai seemed to have been forgotten as usual so he stayed where he was. If they wanted to kick him out they would have to actually acknowledge his existence for once. 

Crawford looked at Kai, “Could you refill my coffee for me. When I’m through talking to Nagi, I think it’s time for us to have a private chat too.” 

Kai rose obediently to his feet and took Crawford’s cup. He left the room quietly, shutting the door behind him. 

Nagi waited until he had gone before frowning at Crawford. “Ken’s sensitive enough as it is at the moment and I don’t like keeping things from him.” 

“Some things aren’t for open discussion. This is one of those things.” Crawford regarded the boy for a moment, “To keep you from worrying about what I might be planning that would cause me to firmly state the chain of command, I want to assure you that I have no intentions of leaving, nor do I foresee anything fatal in my immediate future. For that you can thank Kai.” 

Nagi smiled one of his rare smiles. “We thought you seemed a lot better,” he said, “but I admit to curiosity about why you chose Fujimiya over Schuldig as your second. I admit he’s a lot less annoying but… are you certain you can trust him that far?” 

Brad actually smiled, “Would I have given him that authority if I wasn’t certain about him?” he asked. “And I’m sure you know why I didn’t give it to Schuldig, or at least I would hope you understand our German well enough by now to know. 

“Think about it Nagi, I’m sure you understand why.” 

Nagi did think about it and finally he nodded. “Schuldig isn’t that good under real pressure and a lot about Rosenkreuz still terrifies him,” he said, “whereas Abyssinian remains focused no matter what. He’s actually a lot like you in that respect.” 

“Yes he is, which is why I’ve named him as my second, with Schuldig and Yohji as our backup. Now, can you tell me why I named the pair of them as a contingency, rather than one or the other?” 

Nagi shook his head, rather hoping that it never came to that at all. Both Schuldig and Yohji had their problems. “All I can think of is that neither of them are strong enough alone.” 

“You are correct. Think about it. If they are leading that means that both Abyssinian and myself are either out of commission, or dead. What sort of shape do you think either of them would be in at that point?” 

Crawford’s expression turned very serious. “And that is why I want you to start considering what you will do in the event that something does happen to both Fujimiya and myself. While I’ve named them contingent leaders, it will really fall on you to see everyone out of danger.” 

Nagi nodded his understanding although he believed, and fervently hoped, that it would never come to that. As things were, his adoptive father had made good choices. “I won’t let you down,” he promised just as a tentative knock came at the door. “Kai with your coffee, I guess. I’ll leave you to it and… thank you for telling me this. It will go no further.” 

The American thought about something, then decided it was time. 

“Nagi?” 

“Yes?” 

“I know I’ve never told you this, and I’m sure some of the things I’ve said and done have been less than pleasant...” he paused, then forced the words out, “I want you to know that I’m proud of you.” He gave the boy another of his own rare smiles, “And I’m glad you’ve got Ken. I think the two of you are good for each other.” 

Then as if he’d never spoken, he turned his attention to the papers on his desk. 

Nagi took a deep breath before smiling to himself. Crawford had just answered a question he’d asked himself for some time now. Suddenly their argument, and the blow he’d received, over Tot no longer mattered. He left the room, holding the door open for Kai to carry Crawford’s coffee in then closing it behind him. 

Brad watched Nagi go, pleased with how the boy was turning out. A killer had managed to raise a boy who was reluctant to kill, and he’d managed to avert a tragedy for the boy by keeping him away from Tot. The girl would have betrayed him in the end, and that was a sort of pain the teen didn’t need in his life. He’d had more than enough already. 

Kai crossed to the desk and placed the coffee on the little lace-trimmed coaster there before straightening up and waiting for Crawford to say whatever he wanted to say to him. 

“I’m going to need a few things from you today, Kai,” he said as he picked up his steaming cup of coffee. “First I have an errand for you. I want you go to Porter’s hotel and tell him the money for his newest venture is in the bank. Give him this letter of credit,” he said as he pulled a large envelope out of a desk drawer. “You are to take Zeshin with you as I want none of us on the streets alone.” 

Kai sighed and picked up the envelope. If that was the extent of Crawford’s ‘private chat’ it meant that he still didn’t know either where he stood or why he was even here. He had no real talent that could help them and felt like so much excess baggage most of the time. 

“You’ve been wondering why I’m keeping you,” the American said. “It’s simple. You have a very rare talent, Kai. One that Rosenkreuz would try to warp into something they could use.” 

He reached out to brush his fingers across Kai’s cheek in a gentle caress, “You’re a biokinetic, Kai. What in the more common parlance would be called a psychic healer.” 

Kai’s eyes widened at the revelation. He’d been told he could pick up images by touching things and, since Schuldig had started training him he’d found that to be true. He’d just not considered it important when compared with what the others could do. And apparently he helped people to sleep better. Big deal! 

But now, if he could learn how to use this talent he could be of real use to the rest of them. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe that they could win every fight without so much as a scratch and then he would really be needed. 

“Could I heal actual wounds?” he asked. 

“With practice, yes, I think you could,” Crawford replied. ‘As it is you’ve kept me from dying, Kai. So don’t worry that I would ever discard you. Being alive with my t...” he paused, shook his head, “with my family means a great deal to me.” 

He put his cup down, pulled Kai into his lap and held him close, closing his eyes. He wouldn’t insult the boy by pretending he was Fujimiya, but Brad couldn’t help the fact that he wanted to be holding the sleek form of the former Weiss swordsman rather than the smaller teen. 

Kai wound his arms round Crawford’s neck, knowing that he wasn’t the one that their leader wanted and also knowing that Crawford wasn’t really what he wanted either, although he wasn’t certain exactly who or what that was. 

Crawford set his lips to Kai’s, kissing the boy. It wasn’t what he wanted, it wasn’t what Kai wanted. 

But they didn’t have many options that wouldn’t cause too much strife. Kai wanted Yohji. Brad wanted Aya. 

Unattainable desires. 

It was better to have what could be theirs than to have nothing. And Brad was tired of having nothing. 

The Schwarz leader broke the kiss, sat there holding Kai, saying nothing. 

"I’d better find Zeshin and deliver your letter," Kai said after a long pause. 

“I want you to come to my bedroom tonight. Will you?” 

Kai blinked. Was Crawford lonely too? And was he the answer to that loneliness? To his own? 

“If you want me to,” he found himself saying. Wasn’t something better than nothing? Better than the limbo he felt he existed in? 

Crawford touched his lips to the boy’s mouth in a quick kiss. “Yes I want you to, but only if you’re willing. I might be a bastard on occasion, but I’m no rapist.” He actually smiled as he said it. 

“I know that… or at least I think I do. But… I’m not sure that I’m what you really want,” Kai stuttered, not sure what to make of this. “I’m willing but…” He shut up finally, not wanting to make things even worse. 

Crawford sighed. “I’m also not going to lie to you, Kai. I want Abyssinian, but I’ve learned that sometimes the things we want most aren’t attainable. Aya is, unfortunately, one of them. At least for now.” 

He traced the hard line of the boy’s cheekbone with one finger, “You on the other hand, aren’t out of my reach.” 

Unlike a certain, tall blond who is out of mine, Kai thought bitterly. He made his decision and nuzzled into the caress. “I’ll come to your room tonight,” he promised. Yohji would never even look at him while he had Aya, even if he did have to share him. 

“Well it’s settled then,” Crawford remarked as he set the boy on his feet. “Go see Porter and when you have that done go by the tailor’s shop and see if they have my new suit ready.” 

He pulled a five dollar coin out of his pocket, and tossed it to Kai, “Then you and Zeshin can go by the general store and get some candy to refill the jar in the living room.” 

Kai smiled as he caught the coin and climbed off Crawford’s lap. Decision now made he felt oddly at peace. Crawford wouldn’t hurt him and they might both actually enjoy the experience. 

Brad was smirking as he said one last thing, “Find something we can use for lube with the change.” 

* * * * * * * 

Aya followed Schuldig as the German telepath followed the shielded mind of the new talent on the block. He wondered what the man would make of them and whether someone who was prepared to sign up with Everette was really what they were looking for. Then again, better to have him as a friend rather than an enemy. 

The man they were following was tall and lean, almost the same build as Kudoh, but his hair was jet black and pulled back into a tail that fell nearly to his waist. His skin also showed his heritage, being a warm reddish colour. Unlike most of Everette’s men, he was clean, even if his shirt and jeans were a bit thread bare and frayed. The gun belt he wore and the revolver, strapped to his right thigh, were well taken care of, the gun riding low at his side, almost in the same position that Yohji himself had adopted. 

Cole didn’t even turn to look at the pair of men he knew were following him. Probably just another pair of Everette’s men following him to see what he was going to do. 

It didn’t matter. 

He ducked into the first saloon he reached and headed for the bar. 

Aya and Schuldig followed him into the saloon and approached him once he had a drink in his hand. 

*Cole Randall, The Phantom Gun. Come to sign up with that asshole Everette. What if we could offer you something better?* 

As Schuldig sent the thought Aya studied the man they had come to recruit. Attractive, was his first thought, then, oh damn another good-looking man. Life was complicated enough as it was. 

Cole regarded the pair of red haired men with a cool appraisal, ignoring the mental contact. 

“You boys want something?” he asked them, his voice deeper than Aya’s, his gaze dark as obsidian, and just as hard. 

“No,” Aya said at his most icy. “We want to offer you something. We have everything we need but Mr Crawford seems to think you might actually be worth employing.” His gaze let the gunslinger believe that he wasn’t so sure. 

“I might add,” Schuldig said aloud and in a more conciliatory tone, “that you’re the only one of the locals that Mr Crawford has even considered employing. He recognises talent when he sees it.” 

Cole was taking note of the accents the pair of men spoke with, at the same time he was sizing them up. The one with the darker red hair had very unusual eyes, violet, and he couldn’t recall ever seeing their like before. While he wasn’t sure about violet-eyes’ accent, he immediately placed the other red-head as being German. He’d heard the accent enough when he’d worked for old man Schultz at the general store where he’d grown up to know it immediately. 

“That’s nice. But, if you’ll excuse me, who in hell is this Mr. Crawford you’re talking about, and why should I want to be employed by him?” 

“Mr Crawford is an entrepreneur,” Schuldig said carefully, “who sees the potential in providing luxury goods to a one-horse town like this.” 

“As to why you should consider being employed by him, well just take a look around you,” Aya said. There were one or two of Everette’s goons further down the bar muttering to each other about ’more darned furriners’ and ’half-breed injuns.’ 

“I didn’t say I was working for Everette, or had even talked to him. In fact, I don’t recall telling either of you boys I was looking for work at all. Now why don’t you just go on about your business?” 

“Right now, my friend, you are our business,” Schuldig said. He would have said more but Aya turned away. 

“It seems to me that we’re wasting our time here. Perhaps Randall-san prefers beating up helpless Chinese laundrymen and bullying store-owners to a real challenge. If so he’d be better working with the likes of the two at the end of the bar.” 

“And how, exactly, do you know my name?” he asked, watching the pair of foreigners. 

*Cut to the chase,* the man thought, aiming the clearly formed words at Schuldig, proving not only that he’d heard the prior communication from the telepath, but that he also knew from whom it had come. 

There was a mental chuckle from Schuldig. *Well done, I am the telepath although my companion can also ‘hear’ you if he so wishes. We know your name because Crawford’s a pre-cog, he sees the future and he saw you. As to why we want you, that’s simple. Unlike the great unwashed at the end of the bar there, you are a talent, clean, intelligent and you seem like the sort of man who relishes a challenge.* 

Aya dropped his shields and continued the story. *Everette and his thugs dislike anyone who isn’t white American although the man himself does recognise and use talents like yourself. He already has a telepath and a gunslinger who is more than he appears. 

*However, when it comes to a showdown between us, and it will, they will not stand a chance as we are all talents. The reason it will come to a showdown is simple. They are bully boys who prey on the weak. We are trained killers.* 

*So bullying local shopkeepers is what he does? Thanks for passing on that information, cause, see, he told me he was a businessman who’d run into a bit of a ruckus with some folks who were trying to jump claim on one of his businesses. 

*And as far as his outfit goes, I’ve already noticed a certain kind of odour about Everette’s boys, and we aren’t talking about the kind that goes away with a bath, though most of them could use one of those too.* 

He looked from Aya to Schuldig, *This Mr. Crawford of yours, is he an Englishman? I seem to recall Everette telling me about an Englishman that was getting too smart for his britches.* 

*That would be Porter-san,* Aya supplied. *He and Crawford have gone into partnership over the transportation and supply of luxury goods. Everette is not pleased about that. Crawford himself is American and although he can be a sonofabitch at times, he doesn’t give a shit about race or religion. He also doesn’t look too kindly on Everette’s bullying tactics.* 

Aya frowned as he realised something. In his own way, Crawford supported the underdog as much as he did. 

Schuldig’s mental chuckle sounded again. *Took you long enough, Aya. All we’re asking of you, Mr Randall, is to meet Crawford and make up your own mind about who would make the better employer.* 

Cole glanced down at his drink, knocked the shot of whiskey back and set the glass down on the bar along with a few coins. 

*I’ll think about it,* he replied to Aya and Schuldig, then motioned to the bartender. “Refill it.” 

The man gave Cole a sour look, but walked over with a bottle just the same. 

Everette’s men left the bar and headed for the door, careful to keep their distance from the pair of Crawford’s men. 

*Off to inform their master of our little talk, no doubt.* Schuldig’s mental voice was scornful but Aya was frowning. Cole Randall had actually impressed him enough that he was hoping that he would join Schwarz and not just so they didn’t have him as an enemy. 

Cole downed the second shot, dropped another coin on the bar and turned to regard the two strangers. 

“All right, let’s go meet this boss of yours.” 

Aya nodded and led the way out of the saloon and down the street towards their house, hoping that there wasn’t too much mayhem going on at present. They were still getting used to each other and even now fights would break out over stupid things. Walking in on one of those would not make for a good first impression. 

Luckily the house was quiet, most of them appearing to be out running errands or simply watching the opposition. Aya-chan was sitting on the porch, her face now free of the tears that had marred it earlier when she had refused, point blank, to go with them because she looked ‘a fright’. 

She glanced up at their approach and smiled until she noticed the stranger with them. The smile slowly died as she simply stared at him, eyes wide. 

Cole saw a young woman on the porch and gave her a polite nod and a tip of his hat. She was a real looker, and women like that didn’t come on the cheap out here. She also didn’t have the look of the saloon girls or the occupants of the bordello either. 

In fact, he gave her another look, there was some resemblance between she and the man with the violet eyes, though she had glossy black hair and the most beautiful large blue eyes. 

And now that he was really looking at her, she was the prettiest girl he’d ever set his eyes on. 

“Afternoon, miss.” 

Aya-chan flushed prettily when the stranger spoke to her. Although she lived with so many men, none of them affected her the way this one did. He was gorgeous with hair and eyes of the deepest black. She forced herself to stop simply staring at him. 

“Good afternoon,” she managed to say. 

He didn’t give a damn about Everette and his deal. Not if working for Crawford came with getting to lay eyes on such a rare beauty. 

“Name’s Randall, Cole Randall. I thought I’d introduce myself since I’m going to be working for Mr. Crawford.” 

“Pleased to meet you, Mr Randall,” Aya-chan said although her gaze met that of her brother in silent question. Could they really take someone from this time back to the twentieth century or beyond? 

Cole waited for the young lady to give her name, or for one of the two men he was with to make the introduction. When they didn’t he glanced in the German’s direction, *Don’t you know it’s not polite for a lady to introduce herself? What sort of manners do they teach folks in Germany anyway?* 

*Actually the lady is from Japan and you wouldn’t believe the codes of politeness they practice there!* 

Aloud he said, “May I present Fujimiya Aya-chan. She’s Aya’s sister.” And that was really going to confuse Randall! 

Randall blinked, *Fu... Tell me how you say that again, and go slow,* there was a mental smile coming from Cole as he added, *I’m just an ignorant savage after all and these Chinamen say their people invented civilization. Fussy as they are about bathing, and being clean, I can believe it.* 

*Fu...jim...me...ah. And please, don’t call them Chinese! They might look like them to you but there’s a world of difference between the two races and both take offence at being mistaken for the other. And, yeah, they do like hot baths!* 

*Fu... jim... me… ah, got it. I’ve never heard of a place called Japan, but I suppose there are lots of places the likes of me hasn’t heard of.* 

Cole took off his hat and gave another polite nod to the girl, “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Fu...jim...me...ah, and please forgive me if I didn’t say your name right, I have trouble with names like Schultz much less a pretty sounding name like yours.” 

He was rewarded by a surprisingly deep chuckle from Aya-chan although, if he had glanced behind him, he would have seen a cold glare on her brother’s face. 

“You say it very well, Mr Randall, if a little slowly,” Aya-chan said. “But, please, call me Aya-chan.” 

Aya’s glare became even more arctic. “We’d better go see Crawford,” he growled out, much to Schuldig’s amusement. 

Cole smiled, “Sure thing, Miss Aya-chan.” He nodded his head politely, “You have a nice day now, Miss Aya-chan. I expect we’ll be seeing each other again.” 

With the beauty dazzled grin still firmly on his face Cole followed the pair of men into the house, but not without a backward glance at the vision of perfect beauty seated on the porch. 

Aya rapped on the door to Crawford’s study, having the strongest feeling that they should have sent his sister out to recruit Randall. The man seemed to be smitten and, even worse, so did his idiot sister. 

“Come in, Fujimiya,” Crawford called as he put aside the poor excuse for a newspaper Farfarello had brought to him earlier. Like the others he was sorely missing modern methods of communication like his computer and cell phone. 

Aya opened the door and entered the room. “Randall’s here,” he said tightly, his expression forbidding. 

Crawford’s mind reached out as well as it could for Schuldig, *I take it our Mr. Randall has met a certain younger sister?* 

There was a mental chuckle from Schuldig. *Oh yes! Talk about something at first sight. Just not sure if it was love or lust. Trouble is, neither is Abyssinian.* 

Out loud he said, “So I see. Please, have a seat Mr. Randall. Would you care for some coffee or would you prefer something stronger?” 

“Coffee’s fine,” Randall replied as he dropped into a plush, padded armchair in front of the man’s desk. 

Both chairs and desk were very expensive. 

Crawford met Aya’s gaze, “If you would get us some coffee, please, Aya?” 

Aya snarled quietly and stomped out of the room, almost bumping into Schuldig as he went. “Get out of my fucking way!” 

His mood was not helped by Schuldig’s wide smirk. 

Cole couldn’t miss the outburst from the man Crawford had just treated like a personal servant and assumed the red haired man was mad at being treated that way. 

His opinion of Crawford teetered on the edge of dropping considerably until he noticed that both the remaining men, Crawford and the German were smirking, amused by something. 

Then it hit him, the man was being protective of his sister because he’d been mooning over her like a love struck school boy. 

“Guess I’d better walk light around Miss Aya-chan or he’s likely to give me a trip up to boot hill I’d rather not take.” 

“Yeah, he is very protective,” Schuldig agreed, “but when you consider their history, it’s hardly surprising.” 

Aya chose that moment to return with a tray, four cups and a large pot of coffee which he all but slammed down on the desk. He glared at Crawford. “You ‘saw’ this coming, didn’t you?” Then the glare was turned on Cole. “You hurt her and I’ll kill you!” 

Cole sat there watching the red-haired man toss a fit, “Take it easy, Mr. Fujimeeah,” he said, struggling with the name, “I swear I won’t touch her or do anything to compromise her virtue. You’ve got my word on that.” 

Aya still glared at Cole but something in the man’s eyes seemed to reassure him that he spoke the truth and the glare went down a notch. 

*This is going to be quite amusing I think, Schuldig,* Brad said. *Aya is finally going to have to let go and admit she’s no longer a child. It is going to be rather traumatic for him to realize she’s a woman, not his baby sister.* 

*She’ll always be that, of course, but she does need a life of her own, just as he does. Oh, and it helps that he seems quite impressed by something in Randall.* 

While Crawford was telling Schuldig how things were falling into place for Schwarz, a certain gunslinger in the employ of Everette was watching a pretty dark haired girl he’d taken a fancy to, and telling his companion, “Most of them are gone, so this is as good as it’s likely to get.” 

“Well, I’ve dulled their minds enough that they’ll stay engrossed in whatever they’re doing,” his telepathic companion told him, “so they shouldn’t even notice until it‘s way too late.” He glanced at the porch where the girl was sat seemingly in a pleasant dream world. He skimmed the surface of her mind and frowned. How had she come to know Cole Randall? 

“Good, keep them that way, I’ll get the girl,” the man said as he kicked his horse to a fast canter, dismounting and jumping onto the porch he grabbed the dozing girl and was about to swing her over his shoulder when he heard a sound. 

Yohji had just opened the door to the porch, the blond still half asleep from his afternoon nap when he saw the gunslinger standing there. His hand dropped for his gun, but he was afraid to shoot for fear of hitting Aya-chan. 

The gunslinger had no such compunction. 

There was the loud crack of a gunshot. 

Jade eyes went wide, shock, the impact of the bullet as it hit his chest staggering the lanky blond. 

“Bye blondie.” 

Yohji dropped to his knees as the gunslinger tossed Aya-chan over his saddle. He touched his chest, his hand coming away covered in bright crimson. 

Blood. He knew the smell of it. 

Aya-chan was being taken. He reached for his harigane, pulled, felt it bite skin as it slipped from between his blood coated fingers. 

There was a second loud boom, something hitting him. Yohji found himself staring at the ceiling of the porch, unsure how he’d gotten there. 

Inside the house Aya froze at the sound of gunshots so close to the house. He left the others talking and made his way to the porch, hearing Aya-chan scream on the way. He broke into a run and heard her scream again, this time from further away. 

He opened the door onto the porch and drew up short in shock. His sister was slung over the back of a galloping horse, held in place by Everette’s gunslinger and Yohji… Yohji was lying in a thick pool of his own blood which was dripping off the edge of the porch. 

Yohji coughed softly, blood running from his mouth. “Aya... ‘m sorry...” 

His jade eyes closed, his breath rattling like Death’s fleshless bones.


	9. Symphony of Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Kai had run all of Crawford’s errands and had even gotten the candies and some ladies hand lotion to use as lube, although the thought of what would happen that night was still somewhat daunting. He was so deep in thought about it that he was taking very little notice of Zen. 

He didn’t understand how the cat boy could be so seemingly content to be Aya’s plaything, if that was what he was, but other than that he got on quite well with the silver-haired boy. Feeling a little guilty about his retrospection he opened his mouth to say something when he felt Zeshin tense just as he heard galloping hooves. 

Zeshin noticed a trio of things the instant he saw the galloping horse. First was that the man had a woman thrown over the saddle of his horse, second was the man’s identity, and third was the fact that he knew the dress the woman was wearing which told him the woman was Aya-chan. 

“Bastard!” he snarled, “Kai he’s got Aya-chan!” 

"What? Oh hell! What should we do?" 

And why was he standing there dumbstruck when he should be doing something? _Some assassin you are!_

Zeshin was already on the move, “Go back to the house, tell whoever’s there. I’m going to follow them!” the other teen shouted as he took off after the running horse. 

Kai turned and ran, heading for the house as quickly as possible. He could only hope that Crawford or somebody was actually there. But if they were, how had Everette’s gunslinger got away with the abduction of Aya-chan? He ran on. 

While Kai was heading for the house, Zeshin was running after the gunslinger and he was quickly gaining on the over burdened horse, much to the amazement of the bystanders on the street. 

Silver ponytail whipping behind him, the boy pelted up the centre of the street. 

The gunslinger didn’t notice Zeshin until he was getting close to the house, then he stared, shocked as the boy made a jump for his horse. The animal squealed and bolted forward as if he’d been jumped by a cougar. When the gunslinger looked he saw the weird kid as he tumbled in the dirt and rolled to his feet. Even more startling were the deep gouges he could see in the flank of his mount. Bloody gouges. The kind a cougar would leave. 

“Jesus Christ!” he said in shock as the boy came on, running after them a second time. 

He knew the kid worked for Crawford. So he drew his gun hoping to kill or at least slow the weird Chinaman down or kill him. He fired a shot but it went wide, tried to aim for a second shot but the boy wasn’t like anything the gunslinger had ever encountered before and right as he pulled the trigger the silver haired foreigner changed directions. 

Aya-chan, realising that someone was trying to help her, started to struggle, effectively helping to distract the gunslinger. 

Angry that his plan wasn’t working as easily as he’d wanted it too, the gunslinger cracked Aya-chan across the back of the skull with the butt of his pistol. 

When he glanced behind it was to find the boy gaining on his horse at an alarming speed. 

“Dammit,” the man muttered and took another shot at the boy, swearing vilely as that shot also missed. 

He had one bullet left. 

Snarling, Zeshin jumped for the horse. 

* * * * * * * 

Meanwhile Kai reached the house to find bloodshed and mayhem. Aya was crouched over a bloody and motionless Yohji whilst Schuldig was standing off to one side, eyes faraway in concentration. 

"Kai! If you’re a healer do something!" Aya yelled at him. He approached and was horrified by the state that his blond team mate was in. 

"I… I’ll do what I can," he stammered. 

An agitated Farfarello joined them on the porch, taking up a stance between his lover and the distraught trio of Weiss. 

Schuldig found the telepath’s mind and smiled grimly, an expression far removed from his usual smirk. It was time for the amateur to find out at first hand just what a trained mind could do… 

Kai knelt beside Yohji, almost pushing Aya out of his way in his haste to reach the blond and ascertain the extent of the damage. His mind didn’t seem to belong to him anymore, instead it was as if he was seeing the critically injured man through different eyes. He concentrated… 

Beside him Aya frowned as he suddenly realised something. Bengal had feelings for Yohji. Right now though it didn’t matter as long as he could save the blond’s life. If he could… 

Farfarello glanced down at what Kai was doing, seeing the barest shimmer of power on the boy’s hands. 

* * * * * * * 

Brad had risen to follow Aya when he’d bolted from the American’s office, but images had slammed into his mind, as if they’d somehow been delayed. 

Everette’s gunman, Yohji being shot, Aya-chan screaming, a galloping horse carrying her and the gunslinger away, Aya kneeling beside Kudoh, blood running from the blond’s mouth. 

When the vision had ended he found himself seated at his desk, his eyes blurry, head pounding so badly he felt nauseous. 

He hardly noticed that Schuldig wasn’t there, the ache behind his eyes was so bad. 

His own arrogance had led to a mistake. One that could cost them Kudoh. 

Unsteadily Brad got to his feet and headed for the front porch knowing that was where the others would be. 

* * * * * * * 

Sharp pain lanced through Aya-chan’s head as the gun cracked down on it. Angry at being so abused she reacted automatically. Spotting the gunslinger’s leg she bit it just as another shot rang out. 

“You fucking whore!” the gunslinger bellowed as the girl bit him, his shot going a bit wild. It missed Zeshin’s face and hit him in the shoulder, just as he’d dug his claws into the terrified horse. 

Angry the gunslinger slapped Aya-chan, “Bite me again and I’ll fucking beat the hell out of you bitch!” 

Zeshin didn’t make a sound as he hit the ground, rolling a few feet before coming to a stop. He shook himself and stared at the gunslinger, seeing the man strike her brought a furious snarl to his lips. Growling he got to his feet for the second time and took off after the fleeing horse, blood spreading across the front of the pale grey shirt he was wearing. 

“Son of a bitch!” the gunslinger swore. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya glanced up as Crawford joined them. He wanted to ask why the American had not seen this coming, he wanted to yell at him and hit him for being so useless and perhaps getting Yohji killed. He did none of these things. Instead he turned away abruptly and headed in the direction the gunslinger and his sister had taken. He would have to trust Kai to do what he could for his stricken lover. He had a man to kill. 

Brad motioned for Farfarello and Schuldig, the Irishman going to his leader, a questioning look on his face. 

“I want that bastard telepath of Everette’s. Or rather, I want you to strip any information he has on where that bastard has taken Aya-chan and then I want you to show him why it’s bad to fuck with Schwarz,” he grated it out between clenched teeth. 

"Already on it, Vater," Schuldig said, for once without any trace of mockery in his tone. "The fool is attempting to be a decoy and has headed to a cabin in the hills. However, Aya-chan has been taken towards Everette’s house. Do we need him anymore?" 

“No. But find out how he managed to hide this from me, from both of us. I want to know how he did that, and if you can learn how to do it.” 

The American dropped into one of the chairs on the porch and closed his eyes, trying to will the pain away, his breathing going slow and deep. 

Schuldig concentrated again. He picked up the method used to throw them quickly enough and it was horribly straightforward. Their interest in Randall had been their downfall and it had been a simple matter of making them concentrate their mental energies on recruiting the man. Only Aya had been even remotely alert because the telepath had not been able to break through the redhead’s shields enough to fully snare him. 

Disgusted with himself for not monitoring the lesser talent better, he finally gathered his rage and hurt together and fashioned it into a mental dart which he hurled with unerring accuracy at the other telepath. 

In a simple cabin in the hills, the telepath suddenly clutched his head before collapsing to the floor, blood and brain matter oozing from ears, eyes and nose. 

Farfarello caught Schuldig’s attention the instant the telepath was done with their prey and pointed at Brad. They needed to get him inside away from curious eyes. At least that was how the Irishman felt because of their long association with Essett and Rosenkruez. A show of weakness had always been dangerous to them, and old habits died hard. 

Schuldig glanced at the American and then shook his head. Crawford was seething with a fury and passion rarely expressed and it would be well to leave him alone until they knew whether Kudoh would live or die and if Aya had caught up with the gunslinger and avenged both his sister and lover. 

When Crawford finally looked up at the members of his team, his eyes were hard as stone, his expression cold as an Arctic wind. “I want the two of you to stay here.” He got to his feet, “I’m going to go have a little discussion with Everette.” 

He glanced at Kudoh, “When Aya comes back make sure Kudoh’s in their room. Dead or alive, he’ll need some time alone with him.” 

“Save him for us Kai.” He said with no trace of anything in his voice, then he stepped off the porch and headed around back to get his horse. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya reached the spot where Kai and Zeshin had parted company and followed Zeshin’s trail which followed the path of the gunslinger’s horse. Soon there was blood along it, although it would be useless to speculate whether it belonged to Zeshin, his sister or the gunslinger. 

Further along there was a rather large patch of blood and Aya could now hear shouted curses and Zeshin’s snarls. He broke into a run. 

Zeshin had caught up with the gunslinger who’d been struggling with a very angry, hurt and totally uncooperative Aya-chan 

Aya broke into a run. 

The scene unfolding before him was like something out of a strange fantasy. Zeshin’s claws were buried in the gunslinger’s frightened horse’s flanks and his sister was fighting like a virago to free herself from a fist buried in her long hair. There was blood spreading across Zeshin’s shirt and Aya’s eyes narrowed. Another lover and his sister hurt by the man on the horse. He strode forward, just as the sound of another horse approaching at a gallop reached his ears. 

The gunslinger slammed his pistol into Aya-chan’s back just as Zeshin got himself onto the horse, the boy snarling in his ear. 

The horse screamed and started to buck, at the end of it’s ability to handle the pain of it’s injured rump and too many strange and frightening things happening on it’s back. 

Aya ran forward on silent feet, his hand on the gun strapped to his thigh rather than the katana. A wide sweep with that might well kill both Zeshin and his sister. He pulled the gun free in a single fluid motion just as the other rider reached them. 

It was one of Everette’s men, but not one that had ever faced off against any of Crawford’s band of foreigners, so he didn’t have any respect for what they could do and approached the situation with contempt. He was used to picking on the immigrant bastards and didn’t expect trouble from the ones he was facing now. 

There was a gunshot, the bullet whizzing past Aya’s head accompanied by a shout of, “Dirty Chinaman!” from behind Aya. 

Aya spun and fired taking the interloper cleanly through the chest and knocking him backwards off his horse. 

The horse finally threw Zeshin from his precarious perch, the boy went flying off the back of the animal. He twisted mid-air and landed in a crouch on his feet and his good hand, holding the wounded arm close to his body. 

He snarled, ready to leap for the wildly thrashing horse. 

"Zeshin!" Aya warned. "He’s mine!" 

The boy’s head snapped around to regard Aya, then he bowed his head, submitting to the will of his master. 

The gunslinger had his hands full with Aya-chan and the horse, unable to control either one. 

Aya-chan finally managed to slid off one side of the wildly plunging horse. She went straight to Zeshin’s side to check on his wounded shoulder. 

The horse bolted, the gunslinger unable to regain control of the terrified animal. It gave a few more hard bucks and the gunslinger was unseated, to land hard in the middle of the street. 

He got up and ran for cover around the corner of the bank where he stopped to reload the gun he still had in his right hand from the bullets shoved in the loops on his gun belt. 

"Afraid to face me man to man?" Aya taunted. "Very well, if you want to play hide and seek I’m willing. The end result will be the same." He found his own cover, replaced the spent bullet and waited to see what the gunslinger’s answer would be. 

He calmly reloaded his revolver, ignoring the taunting until he had the gun loaded. Then he did some taunting of his own, “Seems to me I shot that blond gunslinger Crawford was so proud of, Chinaman. I suspect you ain’t even close to bein’ his equal.” 

Aya chuckled without humour. "He might disagree with you. Besides, it’s really easy to shoot an unarmed man, isn’t it." He knew Yohji had gone for his wire by the strand hanging from his watch and he also knew that he’d done that after being shot the first time. Had he been unharmed this gunslinger would already be dead. 

“Well I suspect we’re going to find out who the better gun is pretty soon,” the gunslinger replied. Done talking he moved around the bank heading for the back. His intention was to cut down the alleyway and go around behind the lady’s dress shop. From there he could come up behind the red-haired Chinaman and gun him down like the dog he was. 

The thought made him smile. 

Aya had not cut down 'dark beasts' on Tokyo’s darkened streets for years without developing good hearing. The gunman’s retreating movements gave him the clue he needed and he made his own way towards the back of the dress shop. 

He was through playing with this bastard and used his talent to get him there seconds before his prey. 

Everette’s pet gunman saw the Chinaman appear as if out of nowhere. The gun in his hand wasn’t really aimed, but it was pointed in the right direction so he pulled the trigger. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya-chan was busily tearing strips off her petticoat with which to bind Zeshin’s bleeding shoulder. 

Zeshin watched Aya head down the side of the dress shop, and frowned. Aya-chan was exposed here on the street, and that made her vulnerable. If something happened to her now, Aya would never forgive him. 

He stood, pulling her to her feet. “Later. I need to get you somewhere safe.” 

* * * * * * * 

_"Save him for us, Kai."_

Crawford’s words had sounded like they’d come from the bottom of a well. It was the last external thing Kai either heard or saw for some considerable time as he concentrated his energies on the blood-soaked blonde on the porch. 

There had been no time to question himself, for the doubts to set in. He had to do this, there was no other choice. 

Farfarello put an arm around Schuldig and leaned into his lover, *I don’t think Aya will take it well if Kudoh dies.* 

Schuldig rested against the Irishman, tired to what little soul he had left. *He’s not the only one. Yohji’s imperative to us. He’s the battery Aya must use to get us back to our own time.* 

Farfarello gave a quick kiss to his lover, *We’ll survive either way. Schwarz always does.* 

Perhaps it was tiredness, perhaps it was worry but Schuldig’s voice sounded almost petulant when he replied, "But I don’t want to survive here, Farf. I hate this time and place." 

*I know you don’t want to be here. Neither does Crawford. I think he hates even more than we do.* Farfarello chuckled, *No stocks, no mutual funds, no gourmet coffee and he hates the food.* 

Kai finally came back to a sense of himself and immediately checked Yohji to see if he’d done any good at all. His brows rose in surprise when he realised that the terrible wounds in Yohji’s body had not only stopped bleeding but had closed up as if they’d never been. 

He attempted to climb to his feet but staggered and would have fallen if Farfarello and Schuldig hadn’t caught him. He was exhausted but if it meant that Yohji was going to live it was worth it. 

*No wonder Crawford wanted to keep him,* Farfarello commented to Schuldig as they steadied the boy. *He’s a top grade biokinetic, or will be once he’s trained.* 

Schuldig’s brows rose. *So it would seem and thank whatever demon watches over us for it. Without him, Kudoh would be dead by now.* The thought made him take a closer look at Yohji. Yes, still alive but pale from loss of blood. 

Farfarello grinned at his lover, *This demon loves to watch over you.* 

He helped Schuldig get the boy into a seat then stood looking down at the blonde. “I think we should get him off the porch and into a bed.” He motioned to Kai, “Him too for that matter.” 

Schuldig nodded. If they didn’t look after Yohji and Kai both Crawford and Aya would have their hides. *Kudoh first, I think. Is Nagi about anywhere? It would probably be better if we didn’t have to jolt him.* 

“I have no idea where he or his pet are,” Farfarello replied. “I thought they were upstairs, but,” he shrugged, “Nagi would have come downstairs when he heard the gunshot if he was here. Siberian would have too for that matter.” 

"Damn! I really don’t want to have to carry Kudoh and risk opening those wounds again. No matter how good Kai is, the skin will still be thin and easy to tear." 

As if in answer to an unvoiced prayer, Nagi and Ken chose that moment to return home from wherever they had been. When they saw Yohji lying on the porch and all the blood surrounding him, they broke into a run. 

"What happened?" Nagi demanded. 

“Shit,” Ken said as he jumped onto the porch and knelt down beside the unconscious blond. “Who is Aya off killing for this?” 

“Everette’s gunslinger. He shot Kudoh and made off with Aya-chan.” 

“Oh, shit that guy is so dead. When Aya catches up with him, he’s going to regret doing this, and taking Aya-chan.” Ken stated as he touched Yohji’s throat to check for a pulse. There was so much blood he didn’t see how Yohji could survive. They didn’t have the means to do a transfusion, and with no way to type anyone’s blood it wouldn’t work even if they’d had the means. 

Nagi frowned slightly as he realised that there were no visible wounds anywhere on Yohji’s body. He glanced up and his gaze fell on Kai, slumped in a chair. Putting two and two together, he realised that Kai didn’t just heal in his sleep anymore. 

"If you and Schuldig can get Kai to bed, I’ll deal with Yohji," he said. Concentrating his power, he lifted Yohji into the air and floated him into the house and to the bedroom the blonde shared with Aya. Once there he gently lowered him onto the bed. 

But it was Ken who scooped an exhausted Kai into his arms, “Go find Aya and help him if he needs it. Everette’s men still outnumber us.” He headed for the stairs, but saw Cole standing in the living room and frowned. He turned to look out the front door, “Hey, who’s this guy?” 

He figured that Schuldig would know who the man was, and that if he wasn’t supposed to be in the house Farfarello would have already torn him into bite sized pieces. 

"He’s one of us, Ken-ken. Crawford was welcoming him to the fold just as all hell broke loose outside," Schuldig told him. 

“That’s all I wanted to know,” the brunet said as he started up the stairs. 

Schuldig smirked at Cole as he followed Ken inside. "Not quite the welcome we’d planned, of course. Sorry about that." 

Cole shrugged. “I gather that Everette’s boys came calling. Anything I can do?” He didn’t mention that while everyone else was occupied he’d taken a little time to examine a few papers on Crawford’s desk. 

While he’d witnessed what had happened to Crawford, he wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to the man, other than the fact that he’d left. 

And while he’d agreed to work with Crawford’s gang, nothing had been firmly decided, so he was staying out of this particular patch of cactus between the opposing groups. 

"Yeah, they came calling but, like thieves in the night, they decided that Aya-chan was theirs for the taking and nearly killed one of our team while doing it. Bastards!" His blue eyes narrowed in anger as he thought about the gunslinger but he soon brightened again. "They’ll regret it though as both Crawford and Aya have finally lost patience with them and their fat boss." 

He studied Cole as he spoke, wondering just how much more he should tell the newcomer. 

“I can see how they’d be a might angry with Everette’s boys all things taken into account. Fact is, Everette told me today that he was fixing to get ready for a show down with Crawford, though what he likely meant was one between his boys and you folks.” 

"He’ll lose," Schuldig said with disdainful conviction. "We’re too good for any of his pitiful minions." He turned away, ready to see how Yohji was before remembering something and looking back over his shoulder at Cole. "So feel free to amuse yourself with Crawford’s papers till we’re done." 

Cole only smiled, “You’re good, I’ll give you that.” 

"No, I’m not merely good. I’m the best." And, at that moment Schuldig finally began to believe it. 

“Crawford seems to have the same opinion. He has a diary. Very interesting reading, but some of it makes no sense really.” 

"When you know us better, it might make more sense to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to see how Yohji is." 

“Sure thing. Take your time. I think I’ll go put on a fresh pot of coffee and maybe make some dinner for everyone. If that’s okay.” 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford dismounted in front of the saloon where he knew Everette had his headquarters. There were a few men lounging in chairs on the front porch and they eyed him warily. Lookouts for the man inside. 

Brad didn’t give them a chance to wonder why he was there. He didn’t give them a chance to do more than tense in their seats. He drew his .45 from its shoulder holster and blew their faces off, not even pausing as he stepped onto the porch. 

The doors swung open and he strode inside, heading directly for Everette. 

Two more of the man’s goons rose, hands dropping for their guns. 

Neither of them made it, the modern gun making short work of their heads. Crawford hadn’t even seemed to take aim on either of them, his hand simply moving just enough to make the shots. 

Everette went ashen and started to stand. 

“Sit down!” 

The man did as he was told, hoping some of his boys would come in off the street, or hear the commotion upstairs and come down to save him. 

The business end of the strange looking pistol was aimed dead centre on his chest. 

He saw three of his boys coming in the front door. There wasn’t any possibility the man confronting him could turn and take all three of them down in time. 

Crawford spun, taking a step to the left as he did so, one bullet going past him to hit the bar. 

The automatic in his hand barked three times. 

Three more corpses hit the wooden floor with muted thumps. 

He turned to face Everette, who had chosen to make good his escape and was fleeing toward the back of the saloon. 

The smile on Brad’s face would have turned a devil’s blood cold as the man took aim through the wall, saying loudly, “You’ve worn out your welcome. Give my regards to Lucifer,” then he pulled the trigger. 

The high-powered bullet punched through the wall and Crawford turned to leave before he heard the man gasp and collapse dying to the floor. 

* * * * * * * 

The bullet kept going to bury itself in the back of the dress shop, while Aya was three paces to the left of where he’d been only a split second before. He shook his head. "You’ll have to do better than that." 

The gunslinger stared. He should have killed the red-haired man. He knew there was no way he could have missed, and yet... 

He fired again, two rapid shots, using his left hand to re-cock the gun quickly. 

This time Aya was behind him. There was a sharp pain in the region of his left elbow and then his left hand and forearm were lying on the ground. 

He stared, dumbstruck at the appendage lying in the dirt, too shocked to completely connect the fact that his arm was gone. Blood pumped from his stump as he turned to try and find Crawford’s man. 

All he saw was the bright flash of metal before his gun and the hand holding it joined his left arm on the ground. Aya smiled at him, the expression totally devoid of either warmth or humour. "Time to die," he said. There was that bright flash again only this time it was the last thing the gunslinger saw. 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford exited the saloon to find a crowd of bystanders outside, peering into the large windows. 

“Did you kill him mister?” a young boy asked, pointing inside. 

“Yes. Everette’s dead,” he replied. A vision of Schuldig speaking with Cole slid into his mind, and Brad smiled, the look genuine as the telepath finally realized his own worth. 

“The whole town owes you a debt, mister. Them guys was meaner than polecats,” an elderly man said. 

“Well you’re free of them now.” 

“Thanks to you, Mr. Crawford,” a shopkeeper said. “You and your boys want anything, you come by and get it, and be welcome.” 

“Ja, you come by and get a new suit, Mister Crawford,” the tailor said. 

“Thanks but my boys and I will be leaving soon. Our work here is just about done.” 

_Yes, all we need to do is wait for Yohji to regain his strength and then I think it’s time for us to head back to Tokyo._

_It’s time we faced our own devils._

* * * * * * * 

Aya went back to where he’d left Zeshin and Aya-chan. He found them under cover of a horse trough with his sister doing her best to bind Zeshin’s wounded shoulder. She looked up at his approach, her expression concerned. 

“The bullet’s still in there,” she said. “We need to get him back to the house and get it out.” 

Zeshin raised his gaze to Aya, “I didn’t let him take her, Fujimiya-san.” His words were a bit slurred, and his golden eyes were half-lidded, the pain of his injuries and the blood loss taking their toll on the boy. 

Still, considering he’d been thrown from the back of a galloping horse twice, and shot in the bargain, he was surprisingly lucid. 

“No, you didn’t,” Aya agreed with real gratitude. “Thank you, Zen. Can you stand?” 

“Hai.” The boy stood, swaying slightly, but he was on his feet. 

Aya-chan also rose to her feet and moved closer to Zeshin so she could support him if necessary. Aya nodded his approval. He would need both hands free just in case any of Everette’s goons were dumb enough to try attacking them. 

Zeshin shook his head, “I can walk,” he told Aya-chan softly in Japanese. 

“Stop trying to be a fucking hero,” Aya snapped, overhearing him. “You’ve lost enough blood and you don’t want that bullet to move.” 

The boy looked up at the taller man, then bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Fujimiya-san. I just thought that Aya-san might be hurting too. He was beating her with his gun. I didn’t want to do anything that might cause her pain.” 

“I’ll manage, Zeshin-kun,” Aya said with a smile. “You’re in much more pain than I am, I think.” 

She placed an arm around his waist and together they headed back towards the house. 

They were hadn't gone more than a few steps when four armed men stepped into the street. 

“I suppose you three think you’re goin’ home. But you’re wrong,” the oldest of the four said as he waved his gun at them. “You’re goin’ somewhere all right, but it ain’t home.” 

He had hardly finished his sentence before Aya’s gun was out of its holster and had barked a reply. The man was dead before he hit the ground. “You talk too much,” Aya told the corpse. 

The other three took cover and started shooting and Aya dived for the side of the street taking Zeshin and his sister down with him as he hit the ground. 

The sound of rapidly approaching hoof beats and the boom of a gun marked the arrival of Crawford on the big black horse he’d chosen to ride. Another of the gunmen who’d thought the door of a saloon would protect him found out he’d made a mistake. 

He came stumbling out of the saloon, and fell dying to the street. 

A hail of bullets sang around Crawford, but none of them hit him, the big man dismounting from the back of his still galloping horse and landing on his feet, running for cover near the former Weiss killers and Aya-chan. 

“Two down, but more are on their way.” He looked at Aya-chan, “You wanted out of the house, are you having fun?” 

Aya’s cold eyes stared back at him, anger in their violet depths. “There was no call for that,” he said mildly. 

Brad only smirked, “So touchy. You’re going to have a stroke if you don’t lighten up Fujimiya.” 

*Schuldig, we could use some help here. If you please. Bring Farfarello too. I’m sure he’ll have a lot of fun with this.* 

*On our way, Vater.* 

*Quickly if you please. Their support team is about half a block away.* 

The sound of more horses approaching from the south could now be heard. “Their cavalry is on the way. Strangely I’ve never considered that the bad guys had cavalry, but I suppose it’s all in your point of view, isn’t it?” Brad actually smiled at Aya-chan, “I mean, weren’t we the bad guys too at one time?” 

The girl shrugged slightly. “Not to me,” she said, “but then I was… asleep.” 

One of the three men who had taken cover chose that moment to attempt to get closer. He got two feet before Aya fired and got him in the chest. “One left plus however many are arriving.” 

“Fifteen. Should be interesting.” He reached out and touched Zeshin’s face, forcing the boy to look at him. “You stay close to Aya-chan.” 

Zeshin nodded and shifted position, putting himself between Aya-chan and the remaining men. 

Brad ruffled his hair, “Good boy,” 

Golden eyes narrowed, but the boy remained silent. 

Aya ignored the conversation, watching for any movement the sole surviving original goon might make. The arrival of fifteen fresh opponents did no more than make his eyes narrow very slightly. 

“Oh look it’s a party!” Never had Schuldig’s nasal drawl sounded more musical than at this moment. He wanted to ask about Yohji but now was neither the time nor the place. They had some men to kill. 

Farfarello was taking care of the last gunman if the shriek of pain was any indication of his location to the rest of Schwarz. 

Brad stood up, “They’ve got rifles so this might be just about an even fight.” 

Farfarello stepped out from behind a stack of barrels, the forearm long knife he was carrying dripping a trail of crimson, his white shirt spattered with the remains of his victim. 

“Fun,” he said, eye lit with excitement. 

Schuldig chuckled at Aya’s sigh of resignation before agreeing with his lover. All amusement was gone, however when the first of the reinforcements came into view. Suddenly the man screamed and fell off his horse. “Oh whoops!” the telepath said with a snigger. 

Sometimes Aya wondered which one of the two was the biggest psycho but, then again, hadn’t he enjoyed chopping bits off Aya-chan’s kidnapper? 

“YAIYAIYAI!” Farfarello’s battle cry rang out, shrill as breaking glass, the Berserker running at the oncoming horsemen. 

Gunshots peppered the ground, and blew chips of wood off the building that Brad, Aya and the two younger teens were standing near. 

“Showtime,” Brad said as he calmly walked into the hail of gunfire, his own pistol shouting death at the men. 

Another of the riders fell. 

Zeshin picked Aya-chan up and bolted for the nearest doorway, intending to keep her out of harms way even if it killed him. 

Having no time to worry about Zeshin or his sister right now, Aya too stepped into the street and took out one of the oncoming riders. Schuldig pulled his own gun free of its holster and fired, catching one of the riders in the shoulder and rendering his gun arm useless. “Damn! My aim’s off.” He fired again and this time there was no mistake. 

Farfarello jumped to the roof of a porch just as two of the gunmen opened fire on the place he’d been an instant before. He jumped from there to the back of a horse, cutting the rider’s throat and painting the startled horse a bright red. 

Grinning like a devil from hell, he jumped off the back of the horse and turned to face another rider, unconcerned by the revolver in the man’s hand. 

Bullets sang around the Schwarz team, but, amazingly, none found their mark. 

Crawford targeted his next victim and removed the man’s face with one shot. 

“You might try killing them on the first shot, Schuldig. Bullets cost money,” Crawford told the German. 

“I told you my aim was off,” Schuldig retorted, taking out another target. 

Aya’s gun fired again and another man fell with a short scream. His leg was tangled in reins and stirrup strap and his body was dragged down the street by his terrified mount. 

Seeing their numbers reduced so quickly the remaining gunmen tried to retreat. 

Brad took aim and shot one of them between the shoulder blades. 

Farfarello ran a few steps and grabbed the reins of a horse, his knife tearing into the man’s thigh, releasing a spray of blood from the severed artery. 

The American turned abruptly and fired three shots. The first killed a woman who’d just stooped to picked up a dropped rifle. The second shot killed a horse that had been ridden by another of the gunmen. The last shot hit a man who’d been in the window of the brothel across the street tumbled out of the shattered window to fall into the street. 

Aya fired again and the man who had been trying to ride Farfarello down and who was now running for cover fell flat on his face a crimson stain spreading across the back of his shirt. 

Schuldig nodded approvingly. “Nice shot,” he said as he took out another rider. 

Aya wasn’t listening, instead he was seeing a gun aimed straight at Crawford’s head and was shooting its owner. 

Crawford smiled, knowing that Aya would protect him. Yes it was working well, and this little dust up was proving they were a team indeed. 

The American fired one last time and watched the last of their would-be murderers die in his saddle. 

Brad saw Farfarello take the last man, the knife hilt deep in the man’s spine. 

He pulled out his pocket watch, nodded. “Seventeen dead in under a minute. Nice work gentlemen.”


	10. Piece of Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Aya waited just long enough to make sure that Aya-chan and Zeshin could make it back to the house under their own steam before taking off at a run. He didn’t hold out much hope of Kai saving Yohji’s life but he had to be sure, had to see the man that meant so much to him at least one last time. 

Strange how his emotions, usually so sternly controlled, were able to escape and run amok whenever it came to the sensual and languorous Balinese. 

He reached the house to find the porch clear, apart from Yohji’s blood. _Kami-sama! So much of it!_ He didn’t pause, darting into the house and taking the wooden stairs two at a time. Seconds later he was in their room staring down at his pale but still breathing lover. 

The wounds were gone, almost as if they’d never been, with not even a scar to show the passage of two normally lethal bullets and his eyes widened slightly. Kai must have a strong talent to be able to do that. But had Yohji lost too much blood? 

Almost fearfully he knelt down by the bed, taking one of Yohji‘s cold hands into his own. 

The chill hand twitched, fingers closing, holding, the grip weak, but there nonetheless. 

Jade eyes opened, blinked at the fog filling them. He knew he wasn’t dead because he was too cold, and people in hell wouldn’t be cold, would they? 

No, of course not. 

Then he saw the deep red hair and knew. 

Not Hell. His own fragment of Heaven, wrapped in solid muscle and bone, alabaster skin, and eyes bright as rare amethysts. Aya. 

And Aya was doing something he never normally did. He was weeping, the tears running unheeded down his cheeks to drip off the edge of his chin and dampen the chamois of the duster coat. 

The slight pressure on his hand made him look up and straight into those warm green eyes. Was he dreaming? He stared, not daring to believe. 

Yohji reached up with a trembling hand to stroke his lover’s tear dampened face. “I’m sorry I let you down,” he said, then started to sit up. “I’ll help you find her.” 

Like the time they’d gone to face Riot, Yohji wasn’t about to let a bullet hole stop him from helping. 

Gently Aya pushed him back down again. “Idiot,” he said almost tenderly. “She’s safe, Yohji, and the bastard who shot you is dead.” 

Yohji sighed, “I wasn’t much help was I?” he asked softly, gaze haunted in a way Aya hadn’t seen his on his lover’s face in weeks. He was remembering Maki another girl he couldn’t save. And he was remembering how he failed Asuka too. 

“That’s not true,” Aya said. “If you hadn’t slowed him down he would have got away with it.” But he knew what was really on Yohji’s mind. Perhaps it was time to share some of his own regrets, to let Yohji know he wasn’t alone in his feelings of guilt. 

“I wish I’d been able to save my parents instead of simply avenging them. Do you remember Ouka’s friend? The one who’s boyfriend led us to Takatori Masafumi? I wish I could have saved him, undone what was done to him. I wish I could have saved Sakura, too. But all I can do is kill, Yohji. I don’t have your compassion. I wish I did.” 

The grip on Aya’s hand tightened a bit, Yohji remaining silent as he considered what he should say. “But I love you for who you are Aya. Not who you might have been, or who you will never ever be.” 

Aya grimaced as he thought about the long dead Ran. But then, if he’d remained that naïve boy he would never have met Yohji at all. And Yohji loved Aya, not Ran. He snorted in wry amusement. “If wishes were fishes… “ He squeezed Yohji’s hand again, though gently. 

“Give me a kiss. I want to be sure you’re real,” Yohji requested. 

Aya leaned forward and pressed one of the gentlest kisses he’d ever given Yohji to the blonde’s lips. “I’m real enough, but you need to rest. You lost a lot of blood.” 

Yohji just smiled and guided Aya’s hand down his body to show his lover that, while he might have lost some blood, there was still enough left to fill a certain part of his body. 

“I think I’ll live, if that’s any indication,” he quipped. 

But Aya wasn’t smiling. Instead he frowned down at his lover. “You almost died on me, Yohji.” There was real fear in the accusation. “The bastard blew two fucking great holes in your chest! If it hadn’t been for Kai…” But he couldn’t actually voice what might have happened. 

“I know,” Yohji replied, touching Aya’s face gently. “I remember what happened, I remember seeing you standing over me. There was a bright light behind you, almost like a halo.” He gave his lover a little smile, “Guess I was hallucinating, but I don’t remember being in any pain. You were there, so I knew I would be fine. You always come and save me, Aya. You always do. You can say it was Kai, but I know better.” 

Aya snorted and shook his head in mock despair. “I’m not worthy of any halo’s, Yohji. I’m more likely to wear horns and a tail. And how could I not try to save you? We‘ve been through far too much for me to lose you now.” 

“Hmm...” Yohji studied his lover. “I picture you with wings that match your hair. You know, dark red, but with some black thrown in to bring out the colour.” He laughed, “Yeah we’ve been through a lot of shit, haven’t we? And we haven’t run out of shit yet either. Not by a long shot.” 

He sighed, “Why don’t you get in here with me? I’m cold.” 

For once Aya didn’t argue or make any snide remarks about Yohji’s overactive libido. Instead he simply pulled off his clothes and climbed into the bed. Once there he settled himself around Yohji, trying to warm him with his own body heat as best he could. 

Yohji sighed in contentment as Aya cuddled against him. He liked the feel of the other man in bed with him, liked the way Aya smelled of leather and man. 

There was a knock at the door followed by Nagi floating a large pitcher of fresh lemonade and a glass in front of him. He brought it to rest on the nightstand before saying, “You need to drink a lot to help replace the blood you lost. That should help.” Then with one of his shy smiles he was gone again. 

“I really like that kid,” Yohji commented. 

“Yeah,” Aya agreed, his tone a little bitter. “Turned out better than our kid did. Better for Ken, too.” He sighed and closed his eyes remembering happier times at the Koneko and a teenager called Omi. “I feel like a parent asking the rhetorical ‘where did I go wrong’ question.” 

“Omi was never ours,” Yohji replied softly. “We might have loved him, but,” he shrugged, “he was always very... pragmatic. He did whatever was needed, reinvented himself at need to fit the situation, and moved on. Any attachment he might have shown to us was part of the situational requirement. When he stopped being in that situation he stopped caring.” 

Aya gazed at his lover, realising that he was speaking nothing but the truth. It was the rest of them that had taken ‘Omi’ at face value and were now paying the emotional price for doing so. It was time to change the subject. 

“Drink some of that lemonade,” he said gruffly. “We don’t have the ability to give you blood transfusions and you need to get your strength back.” 

“I’d rather have a beer,” Yohji stated, then he grinned. “Or some purple sausage.” He waggled his eyebrows comically and reached for his lover. “Come here.” 

Aya pulled away. “Lemonade first,” he said. “Drink some of it and then we’ll see.” 

“Oh, all right,” the blond relented. “You might want to do the pouring though. I don’t want to spill it.” 

Aya sat up and poured a glass of the lemonade. He then helped Yohji into a semi-sitting position and even held the glass for him to drink from. For anyone who knew him well, sure signs of just how worried he had been. 

The door opened and Crawford stepped into the room, “Touching,” he said as he pushed his glasses up, the lenses glinting brightly. “I take it our number one target is going to survive?” Of course he knew the answer to that question, but he wanted to hear it from Aya, more as reinforcement of the former Weiss’ belief in that fact than because he needed an answer. 

“As long as he agrees to get his fluid intake up with something other than beer,” Aya replied gruffly. “And he doesn’t argue about it!” 

Yohji stuck his tongue out at Aya before he started drinking the lemonade. 

“He’ll do as he’s told,” the American said as he regarded the pair on the bed. While he held his emotions in check, seeing the two of them made him want things he knew might not come to pass, the crossroads in time causing too many possibilities for him to sort out. 

Yohji turned a baleful glare on Brad, “Yes master,” he muttered before handing Aya the empty glass. “Between the two of you, I’m not going to have a moment’s peace.” 

“You need to regain your strength, Kudoh. We can’t get back to our own time without you. And we can’t go back until we’ve had sufficient time to train together.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Aya could tell that Yohji was tiring, or perhaps he was simply irritated with Brad’s presence. 

*Schuldig, you made a rather interesting remark about Kudoh earlier. Would you care to enlighten me regarding it?* 

*He’s quite open to kissing me although the thought of a threesome with Farf seems to freak him right out.* There was amusement in the telepath’s mental voice. *You looking for distractions, vater?* 

*Looking for something I haven’t had for a long time, Schuldig. I’m looking for a good time.* 

“He’s not up to training right now,” Aya snapped. “If there was nothing else, Crawford, he needs to rest.” He moved as if to get out of the bed but Yohji grabbed his hand and he knew the blonde wouldn’t rest unless he was there. 

“Calm yourself, Abyssinian. I wasn’t talking about this very instant.” He smirked, “So protective. Don’t let it cloud your judgment.” 

Aya simply glared back at him. “You can get us to jump through your hoops later,” he said. “Right now I want some time alone with Yohji and to make sure he gets the rest he needs in order to survive and help me to get us all back to our own time.” 

Crawford’s smirk didn’t waver in the least, “I know what you’re going to do, Aya. So don’t try and play me for a fool.” He turned and opened the door, “Have fun.” 

The door shut softly behind him, but it didn’t do much to mute the man’s laughter. 

“Smug bastard,” Aya muttered irritably. He turned to gaze at Yohji. “Have you finished with that lemonade?” 

“That he is.” Yohji showed him the empty glass, “Done.” 

Aya took the glass and placed it on the nightstand. “Good,” he said. “Lie back down, Yohji.” He helped the blonde to settle on his back again before leaning over him to kiss him tenderly. 

Yohji put his arms around Aya and held him close, returning the kiss, the feeling of his lover’s body over him, the warmth of Aya’s skin was wonderful. 

“You frightened me, you bastard,” Aya whispered against his lips. Then he moved away from Yohji’s mouth and moved down his chest, searching for any sign of the damage that two bullets should have done. There was none, not even a scar. Marvelling at Kai’s skill he bent and took one of Yohji’s nipples in his mouth. 

Blood loss or not, Yohji went instantly hard, the blond groaning with the pleasure of what Aya was doing. He slid his hands down and gripped Aya’s ass, fingers massaging his lover’s butt. 

“You going to fuck me, Aya?” 

Aya smiled up at him as he moved to the other nipple. Having given it his attention, he pulled away and smiled again. “No,” he said. “You’re going to fuck me.” 

Yohji blinked. Then a slow smile spread across his face, “Have I told you how much I love you lately?” 

Aya nodded before his own smile died. “I know I haven’t treated you very well, with Zeshin and everything, but I do love you, Yotan. Whatever either of us may do, that will never change.” 

He shifted position again and licked his way down Yohji’s long body, worshipping it with tongue and lips as he went. 

Yohji shivered, and the chill gripping him had nothing to do with his recent brush with death. No, every goose bump and quiver was the direct result of the sensations that Aya was awakening in him. Lust. Love. Passion. Need. 

He stroked his hands along his lover’s lean body, his touches worshipping the alabaster skin, the sleek muscle, the killer that he loved. 

Aya reached Yohji’s erection and wrapped his hand around the base of it before engulfing the head in the warm cavern of his mouth. He licked and sucked at his treat, enjoying every gasp and moan he wrung out of his lover. 

The flame ignited deep inside him and Yohji groaned louder, fighting the urge to thrust into Aya’s mouth. 

He planned to do some thrusting, but it wasn’t Aya’s mouth he wanted to be in. 

Letting Aya pleasure him for a few more moments, Yohji lay there, letting Aya hear his appreciation for what was being done to him. 

Finally, Aya let him go and smirked up at him. “Do you have anything we can use?” he asked. The lack of modern lube was beginning to be a problem. 

“Just that small can of lard,” he replied as he reached into the drawer of the nightstand. “Or we can use the whale oil, but I don’t like how that stuff smells.” He handed Aya the can of lard. 

Aya grimaced slightly but opened the can and took a generous amount onto his fingers. He dumped the can and spread the lard between his fingers, warming and softening it. He straddled Yohji’s thighs and spread the now warm and pliant substance over his eager cock. 

He moved forward and lowered himself, one hand grasping Yohji’s erection, until the head was pressing against his opening. 

Yohji caressed Aya’s cheek, “You must love me an awful lot, Aya.” He rocked his hips slightly, nudging his cock against Aya’s waiting ass. 

“Love and trust you.” He pressed down until the head of Yohji’s cock had slipped inside him and gasped. He’d forgotten how good this could feel. Slowly he impaled himself, savouring the feeling. 

Yohji groaned, his love for Aya heating him with a warm, golden glow. His own personal sun filling his chest, his heart. 

He gripped Aya’s hips to help his lover steady himself. “I trust you too, Aya. With my life, my heart and even my soul, I trust you.” 

Aya sighed contentedly as much from Yohji’s words as from the intense pleasure he was feeling as that wonderful cock slid further and further in, filling and stretching him to the limit. 

“Oh gods! Yohji!” he cried. 

Yohji smiled, loving the sound of Aya’s passion roughened voice. “Like that do you?” he asked. 

Not sure how long he’d be able to give Aya what he wanted-- what they both wanted really-- Yohji moved under his lover, his hands helping to guide Aya along the length of his stiff flesh. 

“Mm, yes,” was all Aya could manage to say at that point. Now with Yohji fully seated within him he began to move slowly, up and down again. He shifted position slightly and was rewarded by a silken brush against his sweet spot that made him moan aloud. Why had he denied himself this pleasure for so long? 

A faint blush coloured Aya’s cheeks. Pleasure lighting Aya’s face. Yohji’s breath caught, the way his lover looked, the soft cry of enjoyment sending a spike of pure lust through the blonde. 

This was Aya. A cold, emotionless killer. And Aya was his. 

Suddenly Yohji realized that Zeshin didn’t matter. The fact that Aya fucked the boy was totally immaterial. He didn’t love Zeshin. He was just using the boy to relieve tensions that Yohji couldn’t deal with. Aya’s need to dominate, to hurt his lover. 

And if he could get over his own fears, his own reservations about their relationship, totally discard the last clinging shroud of his past, then maybe Aya wouldn’t need Zeshin for even that. 

“Use me, Aya. Use me to make yourself feel good.” He considered it for a moment then added, “Do whatever you want to me. Anything. I’m ready now. I’m not afraid anymore.” 

A shudder went through Aya at Yohji’s words. They were both overcoming their fears it seemed. Yohji was ready to submit and he was ready to let Yohji dominate. The irony wasn’t lost on him but more important was the overwhelming rush of joy that the realisation brought with it. 

“Nor am I, Yohji,” he whispered. “You want to collar me, that’s fine. But for right now…” 

He speeded his movements up a little, gasping as his sweet spot was stimulated again and again. 

Yohji groaned as Aya’s heat, the tightness, the slick feel of the grease all combined into one white-light glow that spread through his body, the centre point a coil of burning heat low in his body. 

“Yesss,” the blond hissed as he got closer, his breath harsh. He felt light-headed, dizzy, but damned if he’d mention it. Not now. Not when they were both rising on the spiral of sexual fulfilment. 

Aya knew Yohji was too weak to keep this up for long and the sensations were so overwhelming anyway that he was soon close to completion. With one last cry of Yohji’s name, he spurted over his lover’s belly, whiting out as it all became too much for his overloaded senses to take anymore. 

Feeling Aya’s body tense then release as he came took Yohji over the edge with his lover, his own come filling his lover’s insides, the blonde crying out the redhead’s name as he slid through the white-light flare of orgasm. 

Just how he did it he wasn’t sure, but he caught Aya as the man went limp, guiding him to the mattress rather than letting him fall. 

Turning onto his side he wrapped his arms around Aya, kissing his lover tenderly before his own eyes closed and he drifted into the embrace of a dim grey twilight. 

Somewhere in that near darkness he could hear Crawford, or rather feel him as the Schwarz precog sat in silent misery in his office, holding in the frustration he felt. 

He wanted Aya almost as desperately as Yohji himself did. 

The knowledge almost brought the blonde up out of the dark hold of sleep, but his body’s exhaustion was stronger than the shock of the revelation. Yohji dropped into sleep, the mental impression of Crawford’s unhappiness burned into his mind. 

Beside him, Aya stared out into inner space, still quaking at how close he had come to losing Yohji forever. He had no idea what he was going to do about either Zeshin or the lust he could feel pouring off Crawford from time to time, but he was sure that all that he now needed was lying asleep in his arms. 

* * * * * * * 

It was hard for Aya-chan to settle once she’d made certain that Zeshin had gone to see Kai about his wounded shoulder. The whole experience had unnerved her, seeing her brother and the others kill to protect her. It wasn’t squeamishness on her part but the desire to know what made her important enough for Yohji to almost die for, Zeshin to be so badly wounded for and the others to kill for. She could find no answers. 

Cole watched the beautiful young woman as she fidgeted around the house, cleaning up but damned if he could see anything that needed cleaning. He figured she was doing it out of nervousness and he could hardly fault her for being a tad edgy, considering she’d been kidnapped that day. 

She finally ran out of things to do and came to a halt by one of the windows, staring out into the late afternoon sunshine. She would have liked to talk to Ran or one of the others but they’d all vanished. She frowned out at the brightness, wondering if there had been any reason for her kidnap other than the obvious one of her being female. 

Cole approached her warily, remembering all too clearly the way her brother had acted earlier. Right before the lovely woman had been grabbed. 

“Miss Fujimeeah?” he asked softly, stumbling verbally over her last name. 

She started at his voice but soon composed herself and turned to smile at him. “Randall-san” she acknowledged him. Strangely his presence made her feel more secure. 

He looked down into her dark eyes, and lost the capacity to speak for a moment. Feeling like the greenest schoolboy found his tongue and said, “I.... umm... was wondring if… are you all right? That fool didn’t hurt you any, did he?” 

Idiot, he probably roughed her up and scared the bejezuz out of her too. 

A tentative smile formed on his mouth, sparkled in his dark eyes, “I suspect that was a stupid question, wasn’t it?” 

“He didn’t hurt me the way he hurt Yohji and Zeshin,” Aya said, “so I’m fine, really. It’s just…” She frowned. 

“I spend so much of my time feeling like the village idiot, Randall-san.” 

The man’s expression showed puzzlement, “I’m not sure what you mean, Miss Fujimeeah.” 

“Would they really have killed not only that man but Everette and all his people just for me? It doesn’t make sense. I’m about as useful as a chocolate teapot yet they all guard me with their lives.” 

Cole found himself glancing at the floor as he replied, “Beauty is a rare thing, Miss Fujimeeah. Around these parts it’s worth fighting and killing for.” 

Aya’s eyes widened at his reply. Forgetting all about her conviction that there was more to the whole episode than met the eye, she concentrated on the here and now and the attractive man who seemed to think her pretty. She blushed rosily. 

“Um… thank you, Randall-san.” She sounded so dumb! 

She was so beautiful, and innocent. He could see that in her blushing face. Living with all these men, and yet.... he realized she belonged to none of them. 

Exactly what possessed him at that instant Cole would never know, but he found himself taking the slim girl into his arms and leaning down to kiss her, in a tender melding of their lips. 

He wanted her, wanted to protect her with a fierceness that shocked him to the very centre of his being, to his soul. As if he’d stepped from the drying heat of the desert into the blessed rain of spring. 

She stiffened at first but then, realising this was exactly what she wanted, she tentatively returned his kiss. The majority of her late teens having been spent in a coma she was totally inexperienced in the art of kissing. 

His arms tightened around the slight form in his arms, an up-welling of emotion, lust, possessiveness, determination warmed him, turned him fierce, his kiss becoming more sure, his heart racing. 

Cole backed off, stunned at his own reaction to this charming creature. 

“I ah...” he blushed and took a step farther away, “I’m sorry Miss Fujimeeah, I...” he shook his head as if to clear it, “don’t know what got into me.” 

Didn’t he want her after all? Was she that repulsive, that inexperienced? She quelled the instinct to stamp her foot at the sheer stupidity of men instead turning away so he wouldn’t see the tears that were beginning to form in her dark blue eyes. 

“It’s okay,” she managed to stutter out. “I’m s…sorry t…too.” It was no use, the tears had started to flow. 

Cole blinked, frowned. “What are you sorry for?” he asked softly, as he reached out and gripped her arm gently turning her around. “I was being too forward. A lady like you... Well you’re too good for the likes of me.” 

He touched her cheek, wiped away the tears. “I’m sorry I made you cry, Miss Fujimeeah. I ain’t nothin’ but a no account drifter, but you... you’re a precious treasure, a pearl of beauty. You’ll get yourself a fine man, someone like that Mr. Crawford. He’s got it all, wealth, power, and he’s handsome too. Not like my ragged dirt-poor self.” 

Then she did stamp her foot. “I don’t want Brad Crawford,” she snapped, “I want you!” 

Cole took a startled step back. “What?” 

There was so much he didn’t know, so much she felt unable to tell him, that she was a product of a different century to this one and, although well brought up, she wasn’t prepared to sit and pine rather than try for what she wanted. 

“I… you need to talk to Brad or Schu or my brother,” she said, “but we are none of us quite what we appear to be.” 

“I know that,” Cole replied. “Your friends are like me, Miss Fujimeeah. See, they don’t call me the Phantom Gun for no good reason.” 

“I can make myself insubstantial. Like a ghost.” He was watching her, waiting for the usual reaction to what he’d just told her, but hoping that her contact with Crawford the precog and Schuldig the telepath would have inured her to such things. 

She smiled, glad of his quick understanding. “Yes, all that,” she said, “but there’s more. We’re not from this time. My brother can… manipulate time or at least can move himself and us through it. Our own time is over a hundred years into the future.” 

Now it was her turn to wait for his reaction to what probably seemed absurd. 

Cole mulled over her words. It was outlandish, her claim of coming from the future, but, at the same time, he could just about take it as fact. The men, Crawford especially, had seemed different in ways he hadn’t been able to set a name on. 

“A hundred years? I reckon that means you’ll be going back there then, but it doesn’t explain why you’d come here in the first place.” 

If what she was saying was true, there must be some reason for them to come to this time. 

“I still think you need to talk to Brad or my brother,” she said. “They could explain things better than I can. All I really know is that there is an organisation that recruits people with power, talent, whatever you want to call it, and twists them for its own evil purposes. We came here to escape that organisation and give my brother, Kai and Yohji time to train their own powers.” 

Cole rubbed his chin, thinking things over. So they’re all like me then? Interesting, even if her story is a bit farfetched. 

“Well I told Mr. Crawford I’d hire on with him. I’m not sure about this whole coming from the future business so I guess I should talk it over with him.” 

He frowned, “What about you? Are these bad people you mentioned after you too?” 

“They might have used me against my brother,” she said, “but I don’t know if I have any powers of my own. I haven’t really noticed anything.” 

“Like that damned fool earlier today. I suspect he did what he did to get back at Crawford not realizing he’d have been better off walking barefoot into a den of rattlers.” 

“Yes, I suppose so,” she said, not too happy about her brother and his friends being likened to poisonous snakes. And that seemed to answer some of the questions she’d been asking herself. The why’s of her abduction. To get at Crawford made sense. Though just why she was so important that they’d risked their own lives for her… that question remained unanswered. 

“I suspect Crawford and his boys must love you a lot the way they went tearing off to deal with that fella.” 

He found himself at a loss for anything else to say. 

At just that moment Farfarello came into the room, single amber eye regarding the pair. He smiled at Cole, but there was a hardness to the expression and the half blood saw a dangerous glint in the man’s gold eye. 

“Is everything all right, Aya-chan?” Farfarello asked, his whole stance tense with menace. 

Cole realized that the pale haired man was ready to take him on if the girl gave him the word and it chilled him as he came to the conclusion that the man would have done just that if he’d seen them kissing. 

It was a sobering thought that he had to tread so cautiously, not only around her brother, but around the whole Crawford gang. 

Aya turned towards Farfarello and smiled at him. “Yes, Farf, everything’s fine,” she said. “Randall-san has been looking after me and I’ve been trying to explain things to him. I don’t think I’ve been doing very well considering the disbelief he’s been showing.” She giggled. “No, actually, he’s borne up very well considering how far-fetched it all sounds.” 

“Yeah, it would sound wild to anyone who heard it,” Farfarello agreed. He was still watching Cole with distrust. 

“Holler if he does anything you don’t like,” the Berserker said then, after giving Cole a measuring stare, he turned and left the room. 

Cole had faced down many a man in a fight, but for some reason he had the impression that the pale haired man with the single eye was not someone he ever wanted to tangle with. 

Good as he was, and even allowing for his unusual ability, he didn’t think he’d come out of any such altercation unscathed. 

He decided a total change of subject and a bit of distance was in order. 

“Would you like some lemonade, Miss Fujimeeah?” 

Aya-chan was having none of that, however. “Please, call me Aya-chan,” she said before grinning mischievously. “And you haven’t done anything I didn’t like.” 

A dark eyebrow rose, then Cole gave the girl the most disarming and genuine smile of joy she’d ever seen. 

“Why Miss Aya-chan, you’re going to lead me down the road of temptation with words like that.” 

“Oh, I do hope so!” 

For a few heartbeats the only thing the half breed gunslinger did was stand there looking at her. 

Beautiful. And, from her words, willing. 

“You serious about that, Miss Aya-chan?” 

She gazed back at him, suddenly realising that she wasn’t dealing with a teenage boy and that she was completely serious. 

“Yes,” she said simply, “only I’d better put Ran and the others straight first.” 

He nodded, not believing for one second that her brother-- if that’s who she meant by Ran-- would condone them doing anything of the sort. 

But a man could dream and hope, couldn’t he? 

“Sure Miss Aya-chan. And if you change your mind, well I haven’t lost anything since you aren’t really mine. 

“But it would please me mightily if you decided you wanted me to be your beau.” 

* * * * * * * 

If Farfarello had a tail it would have been lashing in frustrated rage, the one-eyed man seated on a bale of hay in the barn, the gleam of a well polished knife catching the dim light. He was cutting himself. Blood dripping to the straw floor. 

Punishment he couldn’t feel. Angry at himself. Angry at the world. 

Crawford had given him a duty, an order, and he’d blown it. 

Such a simple thing. 

Farfarello I want you to protect Aya-chan, and the Weiss from harm. 

So simple and he’d botched it and badly. 

Aya-chan grabbed, Kudoh shot. 

He pressed the blade of his knife into the skin of his forearm, watched the blood flow. No pain. Only the cool sensation of the steel as it slid through his flesh. 

Failure was something Brad never tolerated. 

It was something that left a hard knot in Farfarello’s belly. 

It reminded him of his old hatred. 

Hatred of a God that had stolen his family from him. 

The emotion poured off of him in an almost palpable wave. 

He wanted to kill. 

He wanted the Liar to pay. 

The gold eye narrowed, and Farfarello rose to his feet, knowing where he could go, what he could do to get even. 

There was a man he could kill. 

Reverend Evans at the Church of the Lord. 

Schuldig’s head came up and he frowned. Farf was in one of his nastier moods, blaming himself for the day’s fiasco and it was only a small step from there to blaming God for everything. 

He should have been paying more attention to his dark lover but Everette’s telepath and his minor skill in thwarting them had left a nasty ’taste’ in his mind and he had wanted some time alone to get rid of the aftertaste. 

*Farf? Where are you going?* 

But there was no answer beyond the mental miasma of Berserker’s seething rage. 

“Oh shit! Brad’s going to kill us…” *Farf! Talk to me for fuck’s sake!* 

But Farfarello was past any rational discussion. He stalked out of the barn, headed for the one person that could make this better. 

The Hand of the Liar. 

_If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out._

*Brad! I think Farf is beyond pissed and will be heading for the church about now. I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop him on my own.* 

The American set aside the journal he’d been writing the day’s events into and rose to his feet. *I’m on my way. See if you can at least prevent him from leaving the barn. Our new playmates don’t need to see him like this. Not when they’ve begun to finally trust him.* 

Schuldig sighed and ran for the barn only to find Farfarello had already left and was halfway down the street. Cursing under his breath in three different languages he ran after his lover. 

*He’s already left the barn, Vater. I’m going after him but I don’t think it’s going to be pretty.* 

*Stall him. Get Nagi to come and help if you think you need him, but make sure he leaves Hidaka here. This is not something any one else needs to see.* 

Brad was almost running as he left the house. Farfarello in one of these moods, loose in the town was a recipe for total disaster. 

Farfarello paused as a man and woman stepped out of a home, golden eye studying them, looking for any sign that they too were servants of God. Children of the Liar. 

The couple provided just enough of a distraction for Schuldig to catch up to his lover. “Farf?” 

*Nagi, Farf’s having one of his ‘episodes.’ Leave Ken where he is and come help us!* 

*On my way, Schu. Don’t worry.* 

Farfarello stared at Schuldig. “The Liar has to pay for hurting us,” he stated, then he turned away from Schuldig and resumed his single-minded hunt for the man of God. 

Schuldig braced himself, knowing what was likely to happen next, and grabbed Farfarello by the arm. He just hoped he could hold him long enough for the others to get there. 

Farfarello grabbed Schuldig, his hands gripping the German’s arms so tightly that the telepath would have bruises. “Have you gone over to Him?” 

“No, I’ve been sent by Crawford, not Him.” He knew he had to choose his words very carefully. One false move and bloodshed would ensue. “Brad wants you to come back to the house, Farf. He isn’t mad at you or disappointed in you.” 

“I failed him. I failed. The Liar has to pay for this. He has to be punished for interfering in our lives.” 

He shoved Schuldig and turned to walk away. 

“FARFARELLO!” Crawford’s voice had the snap of a whip, and Schuldig could see the Irishman visibly flinch. 

*Don’t make him angry, Farf, please. I hate it when you’re drugged up to the gills. Please, just come back with us.* 

Farfarello was torn by his need to destroy the agent of the Liar, and his lover’s plea. 

Crawford was striding toward them, his expression dark as an approaching storm. “Farfarello, go back to the house.” 

For another few heartbeats the Irishman stood there, then he bolted, running from the man he’d failed. 

Schuldig turned angry blue eyes on Crawford. *You told me that the events of today turned out for the best. He doesn’t know that! He’s still convinced he failed you. You going to put him straight?* 

Nagi appeared further down the street and guided Farfarello back into the house, his talent ready if needed to restrain the Irishman. 

Farfarello vainly struggled against his team mate’s power. 

“Let me go. The Liar must pay. The Hand of God must die!” 

The black rage turned to deepest despair, Farfarello going silent. 

Instead of striking Schuldig as he might once have done, Crawford took him by the arm and led him back to the house. 

“Take care of him, calm him down,” he ordered. “If he doesn’t snap out of this I’ll chain him. Understood? We can’t afford to let him vent his hate anymore. Not here, not when we get back to our own time.” 

“So tell him that he hasn’t failed you! That’s what brings these moments on, or haven’t you worked that out yet? Shit!” 

Crawford entered the house with Schuldig. 

He looked at Berserker standing there under Nagi’s control, then he walked over to him, put a hand on Farfarello’s shoulder. “You failed me Farfarello. But I forgive you. Do you understand?” 

Berserker looked up at the taller man’s face, “You... do?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

Berserker crumpled to his knees, wrapped his arms around Crawford’s legs and started to sob. 

Nagi made his escape then and Schuldig gently disentangled Farfarello from Crawford’s legs. 

“Come on, Farf, let’s grab some zees before the next catastrophe hits us.” 

Berserker nodded, tears still trickling down his cheeks. 

“You won’t chain me upside down? I.... wasn’t bad, was I?” 

As often happened after one of his episodes Farfarello had reverted to an almost child-like behaviour. 

He looked at his sliced up arm, “We better bandage this. Brad will be mad if I get blood on the furniture.” 

_Oh, Farf, why?_ But that thought was doubly shielded from anyone hearing it. “Yes,” he agreed, the kit’s in the kitchen. And nobody‘s going to chain you anyway up.” 

He led the way and soon had Farf’s arm bandaged up. Then he took his lover by the hand and led him to their bedroom. 

“Let’s get some rest,” he suggested. 

Farfarello nodded and passively followed the German to their room. 

“We should get a dog. I think Nagi would like it if we had a dog.” 

Schuldig smiled. “Yeah, he would but until we can actually settle somewhere it wouldn’t be very fair on the dog, would it?” 

He settled himself on the bed and patted the space beside him. “Come to bed, Farf, I want you near me right now.” 

Farfarello shed his clothes and crawled into bed, reaching for Schuldig, pulling the German into his arms he lay down. 

The door opened and Crawford entered, put a cup of tea down on the table and met Schuldig’s gaze. “Make sure he drinks it. He needs to sleep.” 

The American was gone without waiting for Schuldig’s reply. 

Schuldig sighed slightly. “You heard the man,” he said. “Drink your tea.” 

Farfarello shook his head and kissed Schuldig instead. “I don’t like tea.” He yawned and relaxed. “Let’s go to sleep.” 

Schuldig chuckled. “Sounds like a great idea to me,” he said. He shucked his own clothes and curled against his volatile lover. 

The Irishman held his lover close, fingers stroking through the wild mane of hair. He was quickly drifting close to sleep, “Kudoh’s pretty. I think we should keep him.” 

“Yeah, he’s almost as pretty as Aya and Zeshin are. Kai’s kinda cute too and Nagi thinks Hidaka is wonderful. Ah, what the hell, let’s keep them all!” 

He knew he was making no sense at all, but it didn’t matter. Farf was back without drugs or punishment and life was good. 

“You’re the most beautiful....” Farfarello sighed, his head pressed to Schuldig’s as he dropped off the edge of consciousness into sleep. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken studied the blades of the pair of bugnucks that the blacksmith had made for him. He’d always fought with a single one before, but the precog had insisted he learn to fight with a matched pair. 

It still disturbed the former Weiss to follow Crawford’s orders, but he supposed he’d get used to it in time. 

What he was having the most trouble getting used to was being happy for the first time since his career as a goalie had gone down the toilet. 

“So how much longer do you think we’re going to be here?” he asked Nagi, wondering what he’d talked with Crawford about earlier. 

That Schwarz still had their secrets was nothing that surprised him. And, as much as he loved Nagi, he still couldn’t fully place his trust in any of the rest of Schwarz. 

Nagi glanced up from the trashy novel he’d been reading. “It all depends,” he said. “Yohji needs to regain enough strength to recommence his training. Aya is almost ready, as are you, and Kai seems to use his talent completely naturally and might be better left without specific training.” 

He grinned. “Put another way, how long is a piece of string?” 

Ken closed his hand on the bar that opened the bugnucks claws, “Depends on where you cut it.” 

“Okay, Ken, what’s really wrong? Is it just that Yohji nearly got killed or something else that’s bothering you?” 

The brunette shrugged and let the bugnucks blades click back into place. “I was just wondering how many of us are going to die when we face Rosenkreuz.” 

“If you want to know our future you’d do better to ask Brad than me. Though he won’t challenge Rosenkreuz at all until he’s sure we’re all ready.” 

Nagi put the book down and frowned at his lover. “We’re all in this together, Ken. It’s not Schwarz versus Weiss anymore.” 

“I know that Nagi. I’m just...” he stared at the floor, “I guess I’m scared. We almost lost Yohji and that would have torn Aya apart.” He swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, “I don’t want to lose them, Nagi, and Brad isn’t God, he’s not able to see everything, which is pretty damned obvious after today.” 

“Today was unusual,” Nagi admitted, “but that was down to interference from Everette’s telepath. We all know that when we go up against Rosenkreuz, Brad might not be able to ‘see’ nor Schuldig to ‘hear’ as they were trained by the organisation. However, you were not anymore than Aya or Yohji, Kai or I were. That’s what gives us a chance. And if Brad is right about Cole… there’s not a lot we can’t do.” 

Ken nodded, set aside the bugnucks and moved to kneel at Nagi’s feet, his arms going around the slender teen. “And you’re powerful. I think Crawford places a great deal of faith and trust in you. Doesn’t he?” 

Nagi coloured up. “He did tell me earlier that he’s pleased with how I’ve turned out,” he said. “It’s probably hard for you to understand, as you’ve seen how Brad is when he’s your enemy, but he’s been like a father to me. The only father figure I’ve ever had or needed so his praise is like a father’s love.” 

The brunet was silent for a while, his expression thoughtful. “He’s taken care of all of you, hasn’t he? Like he seems to be trying to take care of us too, in his way.” 

“If it hadn’t been for Brad, I’d still be on the streets or in prison for letting my power run away from me and killing someone.” He looked away, apparently fighting back tears. 

“I hated Mamoru because he forced me to kill for him. Brad has never done that because he knows the truth about me, that I accidentally killed my mother when I was five and had a temper tantrum. Without him I simply wouldn’t have survived.” 

Strong fingers stroked his cheek gently. “Don’t let it tear you up like this, Nagi. You were a little kid, you didn’t know what you were doing, or anything about your power. It’s not your fault. 

“Yeah well...as for Mamoru, when he was Omi he told me he loved me. And we all know how much of a lie that turned out to be.” 

Nagi leaned into those caressing fingers. “I know you find it hard to trust us,” he said quietly, “we were your enemies for so long that it’s understandable. But can you honestly imagine Schu or Farf or even Brad betraying you the way he did?” 

Ken thought about it, “I could picture Farfarello slipping a gear and stabbing me maybe, or Schuldig messing with my head as an amusing diversion,” Ken replied truthfully, “but, much as I hate to admit it, no. No I can’t. I think Brad might use us to get what he wants for himself, or for you, but... I don’t think he’d screw us the way that Takatori bastard did.” 

“That’s where you underestimate us,” Nagi said. “Farf doesn’t kill his own. He’s never hurt any of us. Schu would only mess with your head if you hurt me or Farf and Brad might be using us all but it’s in order to keep us all safe, to get us all a life we can live without fear.” 

“So I keep hearing, but...” Ken shook his head, “remember I spent two years getting my ass kicked by him. It’s hard to make the adjustment to thinking of him as an ally. And Schuldig... well he never really did anything to me.” Ken frowned, “You know I just realized it was Omi he went after. I wonder....” He met Nagi’s gaze, “Do you think he realized what Omi was like, that he had Mamoru Takatori lurking under the surface all that time?” 

“Your ass kicked, yes, but he left you alive,“ Nagi said with a quick grin. 

He was quiet for a moment, thinking back. “Schuldig is complex,” he said finally. “He seems devil-may-care on the surface but there’s a lot going on underneath. He knew who ‘Omi’ really was and even took him to Hirofumi to be beaten. He referred to Weiss as his prey but he only ever picked on Mamoru.” 

“That whole business with Ouka, it was like he was trying to make the rest of you see what he saw, the corruption within. I really think he wanted the three of you to kill Mamoru. Farf only killed Ouka because she moved when he’d aimed at Mamoru.” 

He glanced up, dark eyes apologetic. “That was when Brad and I had to tell Reiji about Weiss. If we hadn’t he’d have beaten Schu and Farf to death.” 

Ken listened in silence. Listened to the story from the other side, hearing it for the first time. It put things into a whole new light. 

“So they were trying to save us from the snake in our midst.” 

“People always forget that Schu is empathic as well as telepathic. They really should remember it because it’s his empathy, or ‘how a mind tastes’ as he would put it, that makes him act. I’ve never asked him but I get the impression that Takatori Mamoru left as bad a taste in Schu’s mind as the rest of his family did.” 

Ken nodded, his expression as bitter as his voice when he said, “Well Mamoru left a bad taste in my mind too.” 

“I wanted to kill him too,” Nagi said, “but Brad wouldn’t let me. He’s the only person I’ve ever actively wanted to kill.” 

“No, you’re right. I can’t ever see Brad doing anything like this to any of you.” He gave a harsh chuckle, but it wasn’t a sound that carried any humour. “We always thought of Schwarz as monsters and the truth is, the only monster was Takatori Mamoru.” 

Nagi’s arms went round Ken’s neck. “Stop doing this to yourself, Ken,” he pleaded. “The only thing you were guilty of was trusting a very plausible and clever teenager. He had you all fooled, even the usually suspicious Aya.” 

“Yeah, and that hurts too. I don’t think Aya or Yohji have fully gotten over this either. Maybe we never will. I mean, if Brad turned on you, how would you feel?” 

“Like I’d been shot through the heart,” Nagi said without hesitation. “I know Brad isn’t always the most likable person but he’s not one to turn on his own. He knows you trust Aya and Yohji and that’s why he named Aya his second and Yohji and Schu his thirds in the chain of command.” The rest of Brad’s reasoning he kept to himself. 

“Yeah, shot through the heart. Boy do I know that feeling.” Ken buried his face in Nagi’s hair, breathing in his lover’s scent. Once he’d done this with Omi. But Omi was no more, lost in the man he’d become, Takatori Mamoru, their enemy. 

“If you ever decide to betray me, Nagi, just kill me. Don’t let me know, just kill me in my sleep or something, please,” he begged softly. 

“I’ll never make that decision, Ken,” Nagi said, his eyes showing his hurt at the suggestion. “Why would I do that to someone I love?” 

Ken pulled Nagi into his arms and held him tightly, desperately, wanting to believe, afraid of yet another lover that would lie, use him, hurt him, hiding his tears against the boy’s shoulder. “He promised me he’d never betray me either, Nagi. He swore he’d kill anyone that hurt me the way Kase did.” 

Nagi had nothing to say to that but his hands had formed fists and his power was like the oppression of a gathering storm. Oh how he longed to unleash it on Takatori Mamoru and the dead Kase for what they had done to this honest man. 

Scooping Nagi up in his arms, Ken carried him to their bed and lay him down, his mouth finding Nagi’s in a tender, loving kiss. 

* * * * * * * 

Kai had knocked several times on Brad’s door and, after receiving no answer, poked his head round it. The room was empty so he sat down on the bed and waited, the lotion he’d bought earlier weighing heavily in the pocket of his jeans. 

He was so nervous he was shaking. Yes, Brad was damned attractive, yes, he knew he was gay and yes, Yohji was way off limits, but he hardly knew Crawford. The extent of their relationship had been his sleeping in the same room when the American had been ill and that little talk earlier. 

He had no idea what to expect. 

Crawford entered his bedroom carrying a tray on which rested some of the imported goods Algernon Porter had brought in from China. A delicately painted tea pot, matching cups and saucers, sugar bowl and creamer. There was also a tray of cookies he’d ordered from one of the ladies who offered baked goods as a way of making ends meet. 

The man was neatly dressed, not a hair out of place. He placed the tray on the bedside table and offered a very faint smile to the boy. That Kai was terrified was very apparent to the man who’d made it a point to strike terror into the hearts of his enemies. 

“If you want to back out of this, I won’t stop you,” he told the boy as he pushed up his glasses. 

“No… it’s just…” 

Crawford sat down on the bed, reached out and touched Kai’s cheek in a gentle caress, “You’re afraid. I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice Kai.” 

“Yes, I’m afraid, but it’s not of you as such…” Then it all came tumbling out. “We hardly even know each other and it’s my first time and I’d always thought that it would be different somehow.” 

Crawford sighed and let his hand fall back into his lap. “I’m in love with someone I can’t have. So are you. We won’t ever have what we desire. You know that. I know that. 

“I hoped we could make the best of a difficult and unhappy situation, but I imagine that’s just a vain hope.” 

He picked up the tea pot, poured some into a cup. “Cream or sugar?” he asked. 

“Neither, thank you,” Kai said. “So you knew about the stupid crush I had on Yohji? Dumb of me, wasn’t it?” 

“Why would you think that your attraction to Kudoh was dumb? He’s a good looking man.” Brad handed the cup of steaming tea to Kai, “I’m in love with Aya. Not lust. Not a crush. Love. And I always knew that, in the end, I would have no real chance with him. None. 

“So who’s the dumb one here? You or me?” 

Kai sipped at his tea and relaxed a little. “You really love Aya? He doesn’t strike me as the easiest person in the world to be in love with. I mean, I know he’s beautiful and all but he’s so….” He shrugged as he searched for the right word then gave up and said, “cold.” 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. My mouth runs away with me when I’m nervous. And, yes, you do make me nervous.” 

“I imagine I would make you nervous. But Aya does that to you too, doesn’t he?” Brad asked as he poured himself a cup of tea. 

“And that cold demeanour is what I like about him. He stays cool and focused. Even when he thought Yohji might be dead he did what was needed. I respect and admire that. Those are the exact qualities that draw Kudoh to him. Unfortunately for me, Aya loves Kudoh. Oddly, I understand that too. Opposites attract. My main failing I suppose is that I’m too much like Fujimiya for him to have any attraction to me.” 

Kai nodded. “Yes, I fully admit that he scares the hell out of me at times,” he said. He took another sip of his tea. 

“You’re alike yet not alike if that makes any sense. I can’t imagine Aya going to all this trouble to rescue Schwarz if things had been the other way round. I can’t imagine him caring that much about the rest of us. Yohji and Ken, perhaps, and his sister, of course, but not the rest of us.” 

“In that you are correct. But he also can’t see the future as I can. Don’t you think I would have killed all of them long ago if I hadn’t known that they were our salvation? The only people who could help us bring Rosenkruez down. I’ve known that from the start. 

“I also knew what your ability was the first time I saw you, and that was before we even met face to face. I just didn’t know the full extent of your abilities. Of course, with Kudoh’s help, you’re much stronger than you would have been without it.” 

“You mean he helped me to help him? Yeah, I guess that makes sense really. I’m just glad I’m of some use. When Kritiker made me an offer I couldn’t refuse,” he smiled wanly at his own joke, “both they and I thought I was just a street punk with a very short life expectancy.” 

“For a street punk you’re very well spoken and shy. In some ways you remind me of Nagi.” 

“I actually came from a good family and I did quite well at school until I got in with a bad crowd and started running with the Yakuza. The only time I wasn’t shy was when I lost my temper or was fighting.” 

Brad nodded, took a sip of his tea and sat watching Kai in silence. He was an attractive boy. Young man really. But he lacked the chill untouchable expression of Aya. 

Aya. Unattainable beautiful Aya. The man might as well have been on the moon for all the good it would do him to continue longing for what he couldn’t have. 

And that was the whole point of him bringing Kai into his room. He needed someone to keep him from doing something that he would regret. Something that would result in all of them dying. 

And Kai, pretty, young and fragile Kai was the only one around. The only one as lonely as he was. 

“You’re gay, but you’ve never been with a man. I’m gay and I haven’t been with anyone in...” Brad sighed, “a very long time.” 

Kai bent his head, concentrating on his tea to hide his confusion. Then, instead of worrying what Brad had said about him he thought about what he had said about himself. “Was it lack of opportunity?” he asked. 

“I was the leader of Schwarz, part of Esset. Sex was a distraction, a loss of focus to them. To keep my place I became a veritable monk, channelling my energies as needed. My goal has been achieved, at least in part. Esset and the Elders are dead. We’re free. I’m free.” 

Kai placed his empty teacup down on the bedside table. He wanted to throw his arms around Brad, to comfort him for what he’d had to give up but he just knew that wouldn’t be appropriate, wouldn’t be the right thing to do. So what could he do? What was there to say? 

He smiled suddenly. “So now you want some fun for yourself?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the lotion, handing it to Brad with a flush of colour on his cheeks. 

Brad put his own cup down, reached out and pulled the teen into his lap, setting his mouth against Kai’s in a kiss that was anything but tentative. 

Kai’s arms went round Brad’s neck of their own volition and he returned the kiss, hoping he was doing it right. 

Arms tightening around Kai, Crawford turned to lay the boy down, keeping his weight off the boy as he deepened the kiss. 

It wasn’t Aya, no, but it was still good to be kissing another man. A man that kissed him back. 

Kai almost panicked as he felt himself swung onto the bed. Then he relaxed again and concentrated on the kiss. The kiss that he was enjoying far too much. 

Brad broke the kiss, stared into Kai’s eyes. He sat up, took off his glasses, removed the coat of his suit and set it aside. 

He turned to Kai, offered the boy a faint ghost of a smile, then lay down beside him. He said nothing, took Kai into his arms and kissed him again. 

Kai had thought he would be fantasising about Yohji as he returned the kiss, but he found that wasn’t the case and his senses were filled with the feel, taste and smell of Brad Crawford. There was no taste of burnt tobacco on his tongue, instead a freshness mixed with the taste of the tea. 

The cologne that Crawford wore, musky with an underlying hint of sandalwood and spice wove a dizzying spell in his brain and he tried, almost impossibly, to get closer to the man. 

Crawford closed his eyes. He wanted this. Yes. But he wanted it with someone he could surrender to. Someone with whom he could relinquish all control. Someone that he could submit to, and not feel like a fool. 

And Kai, sweet, pretty Kai wasn’t that man. 

No, for that he wanted a cold killer like himself. A man with an icy violet stare and a face like a mask of porcelain. 

Brad shuddered, flickering images filling his head with light and sound and he clung to Kai as another vision exploded in his mind. 

In another room, Schuldig started awake. *Vater?* He climbed out of bed, careful not to wake Farfarello and pulled on a pair of sweatpants before leaving his room and padding down the landing to Brad’s room. 

He knocked softly and Kai’s concerned voice answered. “Come in.” 

He opened the door to find the Japanese boy half-buried under Brad’s weight. The American was gripping him as if he was the only anchor to reality that he still had. 

Brad’s face was ashen, eyes wide and staring, seeing things in futures as yet unborn, possibilities unrealized, the pitfalls and mines of dangers looming on the horizon. 

Schuldig could feel the images trying to bombard his own mind with their sheer intensity and he strengthened his shields as he crossed the room using his telepathic speed. For all his healing energy, Kai didn’t know what to do while he did. 

He gently prized Brad’s fingers off the boy’s clothing and turned him onto his back. *Brad, come back.* 

Crawford’s hands flailed, reaching blindly. Fingers closed on Schuldig’s arm, held then let go, searching, seeking the sanctuary of another power, another mind and body. Another heart. 

Kai raised himself on one elbow and reached out the other hand to touch Crawford’s face. There were tears in his eyes but he ignored them as he stroked the older man’s cheek. He knew it wasn’t his hand the American wanted touching him but he felt compelled to do it just the same. 

The soothing touch of the healer’s hand was like a breath of fresh air to a drowning man and Crawford’s hands closed around the boy’s slim body and drew him close. 

For a few moments Crawford stayed as he was, Schuldig on one side of him, the boy in his arms. His breathing was ragged, heart racing as if he’d just finished running a marathon. 

The rapid flood of images into his mind slowed, stopped leaving him feeling light headed and drained. He reached one hand out, touched Schuldig’s face, offered the telepath a smirk. 

“Now this is a nice change. Two handsome men in my bed, and a bottle of hand lotion right at my fingertips. How lucky can a man get?” 

Schuldig smirked back at him. “I’m only here because you were having a real humdinger of a vision and it woke me. Anything I should know about or can I go back to my own bed?” 

Brad's smirk faded so suddenly it was as if a switch had been thrown. His dark eyes suddenly took on a haunted look, but in an instant that too was gone. "Nothing important. Go back to bed," the American said, his voice flat and a little harsh. 

The walls in his mind went up with a snap that felt like a razor blade formed of ice across the telepath's mind. That he was hiding something was all too evident to the German, but exactly what it was only Crawford himself knew. 

For a moment longer he held onto Kai, then he let the biokinetic go. 

Schuldig exchanged a look with Kai who’s expression was as worried as he felt his own must be. 

“Are you sure? If there’s anything I can do…” 

“Or I…” Kai added. 

Brad just shook his head. "I'm tired," he told them, and Schuldig knew it meant their leader wanted to be alone. 

“Come on Kai, let Vater get his beauty sleep,” he said to the obviously reluctant Japanese boy. 

Kai bit his lip but did climb off the bed, head bowed, gazing at the floor. 

*It’s not that he doesn’t want you. He just needs space to sort through the visions he’s just received.* And judging by that haunted look in his eyes, they hadn’t boded well for any of them. 

Brad noted the distraught teen and forced a smile, one that failed to reach his deadly cold gaze. "You didn't do anything wrong, Kai. You'll find someone. It just won't be me." 

Having said that Crawford started to undress, trying to hide the shaking of his hands. 

And Kai didn’t believe either of them. He was really sorry that he couldn’t be Aya fucking Fujimiya. But to ask him here then tell him to leave in front of Schuldig… 

“You insufferable bastard,” he said quietly. Then his voice rose. “Why the hell did you bother asking me to come here if it was just to humiliate me? Damn right it won’t be you!” 

He pushed past Schuldig and ran, tears of anger blinding him. At least he thought they were tears of anger. 

“Phew!” Schuldig said. “You didn’t handle that with your usual diplomacy.” 

"Get out, Schuldig. Just get out. I need to think, and your yapping is annoying me." 

It would be best if he managed to alienate them, to put a wedge between himself and everyone else before it happened. It would be less painful to them. At least he hoped it would be. 

Standing there, he could feel the impact of the bullet, the awful pain and the fear of knowing he was going to die. But there was also the satisfaction of knowing he wouldn't die in vain. 

In the end Aya would live, the rest of them would live, and that's all that mattered. That's all that he cared about. Aya would live. Nagi would live. His only love. His only son. With them alive the others had hope. They would live. They would all live. 

But the images in his head told him that wasn't completely true. Not all of them would survive. 

One other would die, but he didn't know if it was Singapura or Siberian because he would be the first one dead and all visions ended with the darkness that claimed him.


	11. Love is a Battlefield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Schuldig quietly closed the door to Crawford’s room, his expression thoughtful. In all the years he’d known Brad, he’d never before spoken to him like that. He’d given his orders, yes, been in turn cold, smug, furious and downright evil but he’d never spoken to any of them as if they were a recalcitrant child. 

Ken had watched Kai run through the house without a comment. Sure it was odd, but the entire day had been odd so he'd just shrugged and gone about the business of making a sandwich and getting some lemonade. 

The clunky contraption that Brad had gotten cobbled together to keep things cold worked to a degree, but stuff still spoiled too fast to suit the former Weiss. 

He sat down in the living room with his midnight snack, mentally bemoaning the lack of television and video games for the bazillionth time since they'd come to this here and now. 

Schuldig wandered in, not feeling much like going back to bed until he’d tried to work out what had Crawford so spooked. When he found Ken already there he turned as if to go. Of all the ex-members of Weiss, Siberian was the only one who still regarded them as enemies. 

Ken had glanced up at the telepath when Schuldig entered, noticed who it was and prepared to ignore him. But something in the older man's expression, some indefinable difference made him chance his mind. 

"What's got you so worked up, Schuldig? Farfarello still railing at God?" 

“What? Oh, no, Farf’s asleep. Did Kai go back to his room?” 

"Yeah I think so." He took a bite of his sandwich, chewed it as he watched the German. After swallowing the food he said, "So if not Farf, why the worried look?" 

Schuldig perched his long frame on a corner of the table and with shaking hands lifted a cigarillo to his lips before he remembered Ken was eating and left the tobacco unlit. “Brad’s just had a vision that has him really spooked. I’ve never seen him in such a state.” 

"Must have been a bad one," Ken replied as he downed some of the lemonade. He frowned, "You know, that meeting the other day... There was something about it... he and Nagi talked but, Nagi didn't say what it was about. But... I wonder... I mean all that talk of team leaders...." Ken's gaze met Schuldig's, "Maybe he knows he's going to die. That would scare the hell out of me. Not because I'm afraid of dying, but well... I wonder what Nagi would do." 

Schuldig shuddered, remembering Nagi’s reaction to Tot’s death and the destruction his power had wrought at the time. How much worse would it be if anything happened to either Ken or Crawford? It didn’t bear thinking about. Then what Ken had said really sank in. If Brad had seen his own death… Yeah, that would account for his haunted look and his harshness towards both him and Kai. 

He was suddenly glad that Aya was there, to take over. For himself, he wasn’t certain he’d be able to function very well without Brad’s guidance. 

“Shit, Ken, I really hope you’re wrong but I’ve got a horrible feeling that you may just be right.” 

Ken frowned, thinking about what Nagi had said regarding Crawford. The man had been like a father to him. And if the only father Nagi had ever known died... 

He put the sandwich down. He'd lost his appetite. 

"We need him, don't we? I mean without him to see the future, can any of you even function? I mean, honestly, can you?" 

“Me? No. I’ve relied on him for too long. Farf is the same. He’ll listen to Brad where he won’t listen to others. Nagi can function without any of us although he will be deeply upset and his power may get away from him. You, Aya and Yohji should be just fine. It’s only recently that you’ve come to rely on him. The same goes for Kai, Zeshin and Aya-chan. As for Randall, he strikes me as being his own man anyway.” 

He thought some more. “If Aya did take over as leader, well, he does have a lot of similarities to Brad and even their talents are similar. If anyone could pull it off, he could.” 

"Aya did well by us," Ken admitted. "But you guys, well you'll be fighting blind in a manner of speaking, won't you? I mean he's been there for the two of you for a long time." 

The conversation was making Ken think and while it wasn't that the ex-soccer player couldn't think-- to the contrary, goalies thought all the time and stayed very alert-- trying to work out the dynamics of what Schwarz would be like without Brad around was a bit much for him so late at night. 

“Yes he has,” Schuldig said. There was a frown on his face as he tried to think things through. “Sometimes his visions can be changed. Let’s just hope that this is one of those times.” 

He didn’t share with Ken his other fear, that Brad might have seen the death of not himself but one of them. 

"Yeah, let's hope." Ken sighed and then yawned. "We should get to bed I guess." He picked up his sandwich and lemonade and headed for the stairs. "Don't worry about whatever it was now. We don't know what the problem is. Besides, Crawford is clever, whatever it is, he won't just sit back and let it happen and you know it." 

"No, Ken, that's just it. I don't know it." 

The brunet looked very thoughtful for a moment, "Maybe if he had a reason to fight. And I don't mean the reason we all have, survival. I mean, what does he really care about? Schwarz? Or..." Ken paused, brow wrinkled in deep thought as he worked something out in his head. The picture was forming, and he realized it wasn't one he liked. 

"It's Aya, isn't it? That's the real reason he took us in. He wanted to be closer to Aya, but Yohji's in the way." Ken's eyes narrowed, flashed with a spark of dawning anger. "And that's why he didn't warn us about the gunslinger and Yohji being shot." 

Schuldig sighed wearily. “No, Ken, that’s not why he didn’t warn us about Yohji being shot. That vision was blocked from him until it was too late by Everette’s telepath. You don’t get it do you? Without Yohji, we’ll never get back to our own time. Aya’s powerful but not that powerful without Yohji as a battery.” 

"Yeah, I get it. I was just putting numbers together and coming up with the wrong answer I guess. But yeah, Crawford wants out of this time as much as the rest of us do. You should have heard him complaining to Algernon about the poor quality of coffee available. Guess he's used to the best in everything, isn't he?" 

Ken shook his head, "Must be nice." 

“It’s what we’ve done here, with the help of Algernon, that has given us the money to have the best of everything. From here on in that includes you as well.” 

"Yeah well the best of anything here is still substandard. I think Aya's ready to go ballistic over not being able to get food that's not coated in three kinds of grease, and I know Yohji's getting really sick of the cigarillos. Damn shame they haven't made him stop smoking. At least his drinking has slowed down a lot and he hasn't come home stupid-drunk once since we've been here." 

“I’m not talking about here Ken. What do you think paid for your first class air travel to Bangkok or the luxury suite there?” 

"Yeah I know. Brad. Investments. I've got that. And that's another thing. Who has access to the money in our own time if he dies? And if that sounds callous, well I'm sorry but, we have to survive and without money, we're fucked." 

“I imagine that, as he’s named Aya, that Aya will be the one with access to the funds. But, quite frankly, Ken, without Brad we’re equally fucked.” 

The brunet studied Schuldig for a moment, then nodded, his expression grim. "Then maybe we better make sure that he and the rest of us all stay alive, huh?" 

“That’s what we’re all hoping, Ken. To even lose one of us, no matter who, is not an option that any of us wants.” 

Ken started and almost dropped his snack as he noticed a pale form just behind Schuldig. 

Zeshin ghosted into the room. "Forgive my intrusion, Schuldig-san, Ken-san, but I heard you speaking about Crawford-san dying and I wondered why you would speak as if it were going to happen with such certainty." 

“Why? Simply because Crawford has just had a vision that obviously terrified him,” Schuldig said. 

Zeshin glanced from Schuldig to Ken, “Are his visions fixed in stone or does he use them to guide him around pitfalls? That was the impression that I’ve had from things that have been said. Didn’t he guide all of you so that it was the Elders who perished, not Schwarz? And did he not have the foresight to keep Weiss alive because we are needed?” 

Ken stared at the leopard-boy. It never ceased to amaze the older man how easily Zeshin could reach the heart of a situation with such ease. 

If only the boy could work out the problems between himself and Yohji so easily a lot of the tension among them would disappear. 

“All that’s true, Zeshin, but I don’t think he’s ever seen his own death previous to this. It might simply be another possible future or it might be more definite than that. All I know is whatever he saw it’s got him frightened and I’ve never seen him frightened before. It’s not a pretty sight.” 

The teen frowned. The idea that Crawford was afraid of anything was disturbing to him. He’d never credited the man with that sort of emotion and the concept was sobering. 

“Has anyone spoken to Aya about this?” 

Ken shook his head, “No. He’s asleep. Why wake him for this? Time enough for potential bad news in the morning, I mean...” he looked at Schuldig as if seeking support for his words, “he’s had a rough day as it is.” 

“Nobody’s disturbed Aya, but you go right ahead if you feel that brave,” Schuldig said. “Personally, I’m going to hope it’s a future that can be changed.” He glanced at Ken. “You’d better hope the same for Nagi’s sake. Crawford’s been his father for the past eight years.” 

Ken frowned. “Yeah, I know.” He sighed, “There’s got to be something we can do to prevent it. But I guess talking about it tonight won’t get us any closer to the solution.” 

“No, I’m not that brave. And I guess he doesn’t need to be told in the middle of the night but... won’t Aya be angry if we don’t tell him what we suspect? I mean in the morning?” Zeshin questioned. 

“Won’t Aya be angry about what?” the redhead asked from the doorway as he frowned at the little gathering in the room. “I heard voices. What’s going on?” 

Schuldig sighed. “Brad’s just had a rather nasty vision and he’s scared about something.” 

“We think he saw his own death,” Ken added. “But that’s just speculation.” 

“Schuldig-san says that he looked genuinely afraid, Aya-san” Zeshin added softly, his head bowed respectfully to Aya. 

Something flickered in the orchid eyes although Aya made no comment. Instead he turned to gaze at the door to Brad’s room before asking, “Is Kai with him?” 

“No, he threw both me and the kid out. Was damned nasty about it too. I’ve never seen Kai get angry or cry before.” 

Aya sighed. “There’s no point in us speculating about what he saw so you may as well all go back to bed.” He took a step towards the door. 

“Night,” Ken said then departed, sandwich and lemonade in hand. He knew better than to question anything Aya said. He’d only be glared down. 

Zeshin stayed where he was, big golden eyes regarding his master for a second before lowering once more. He started to leave, dropped onto the lion footed couch instead and curled up to wait. 

“Aya,” Schuldig said then stopped. If anyone would be unimpressed by Brad’s viciousness it was the icy ex-Weiss. When Aya turned a questioning gaze on him he shrugged. “Just don’t take anything he says personally.” 

He was given a chilling little smile. “I won’t.” Then the redhead was crossing to the door and Schuldig decided that he’d better be anywhere but here. 

Brad was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to unravel the images left in his mind from his latest, and most unsettling vision when he heard someone touch his doorknob. 

"Go away," he said, not really caring who it was. 

“That’s not going to happen,” Aya said as he opened the door. 

Hearing the voice of the former Weiss leader, Brad sat up, the covers falling around his waist to show broad shoulders and a well muscled chest. "What do you want, Fujimiya?" Aya was the last person he wanted to see right now. The visions of what might have been clouded by the what would happen, turning his mood bitter as ouzo. 

The dark eyes took in several facts at once. Aya was clad only in a pair of briefs that left very little to the imagination. The next thing he noted was the lean swordsman's body, the sleek lines, an expanse of alabaster skin that he wanted to touch, to kiss. 

“I wanted to see what’s got Schuldig and Kai so spooked and upset,” Aya said, not mincing matters. 

"So ask them," Crawford replied, voice carrying an unwelcoming chill. 

Aya lifted an eyebrow. “I’m asking you.” 

The American just stared at him, his expression cold as ice. After a moment he said, "Leave, Fujimiya. We have nothing to discuss. As I said, if you want to know what is wrong with Kai or Schuldig, go have a talk with them, not me." 

“I’ve already spoken to Schuldig. He says you had a vision that’s got you worried.” Cold eyes raked over the older man, picking up the pallid, sweaty skin and the dilated pupils. “Maybe Kai should have stayed.” 

"No. Kai can stay in his own room," Brad retorted as he slipped out of bed, reaching for the robe he'd brought from their own era he pulled it on, his back to Aya. 

"For that matter, you can go back to yours." 

Aya couldn’t help but see a well-muscled though lean body and well-defined thighs but now was not the time to let the sight distract him. 

He nodded to himself. Whatever had spooked the American was major. “I can also be a complete prick,” he said and sat in the rooms only chair, “and I‘m not moving till I find out what‘s got you this wound up.” 

Brad stalked over to Aya, grabbed his arm and yanked him up out of the chair. "You do not want the answer to that, Abyssinian! You don't want to know so..." he shoved the smaller man toward the door of his bedroom, eyes blazing with fury, "GET THE FUCK OUT!" he roared, turning the pain of rejection, of knowing he would die for the man into anger. 

Aya shoved right back and kept shoving till Crawford was back on his bed, half-tangled in his own robe. The sounds of voices and feet pounding down the stairs made him scowl slightly then concentrate his power. Brad and he went forward in time by exactly one week. 

“Now you can shout as much as you like as we’re in an empty house,” he said. 

Crawford was breathing hard, angry and very aroused, his erection standing visible beneath a fold of his robe, legs spread, one shoulder bare, his dark gaze on the cold orchid eyes, the pale alabaster beauty of Abyssinian. 

He sat up, pulled his robe back on, tried to ignore the pounding blood surging into his cock. "Don't... do that again," he said quietly. 

“Don’t do what again, question you, push you or use my power?” Aya asked. “And what makes you think I’ll take any notice anyway?” His eyes strayed to the obvious tenting of Crawford’s robe and he smiled slightly. 

"Has Kudoh called you a bitch to your face?' Brad countered. "Because you really are a bitch." He got to his feet, "Take us back. Your time slipping isn't a game, Fujimiya." 

“What makes you think that name-calling is going to get you your own way?” Aya asked. “Besides, do you really want to go back to all the worried stares? And when you actually get to know me, rather than make assumptions about me, you’ll realise that I don’t play with my talent.” 

Through with talking he shoved Brad back onto the bed, this time going down with him to land on top. He gazed down at the pre-cog for an endless moment then bent his head and kissed him. 

Brad froze as dozens of his most recent visions came undone, melting like a candle in a blast furnace, erasing themselves as if those futures had all died within a kiss. 

He put his arms around the ex-Weiss and held him tight, returning the kiss passionately. 

Aya drew back slightly, frowning at him. Something in his eyes must have changed for suddenly the redhead nodded and smiled. The first genuine smile he had ever seen on his face. “Something in the future altered, didn’t it?” 

Crawford nodded, brushed a thumb across the red-head's bottom lip before he slipped his fingers into Aya's hair, letting the fiery strands glide through his fingers, inhaling the scent of Aya mixed inextricably with the blond man that Abyssinian loved. 

There was tension in Aya’s body for a moment then he relaxed and rested his head on Crawford’s broad chest. “I mean the difference between life and death for you?” 

"I... don't know. Your proximity alone changes the visions, whether those changes are real, I don't know," Brad replied, realisation dawning that the kiss had been nothing, that he'd let himself hope for something that was never going to happen. 

"Get off me and let's go back," Crawford all but growled as he pushed at the swordsman's shoulders. 

Aya didn’t move. “Is that what you really want? You’ve been dropping not so subtle hints, kissing and confusing me ever since we threw in our lot with Schwarz and now you want me to get off you and go back? Why?” 

"Why? You're asking me why?" Brad actually laughed. "What about your precious lover? I seem to recall you being upset when he nearly died. Or was I imagining that?" 

Aya sighed. “Of course I was upset. So was everyone else!” He was silent for long moments, his eyes distant. “I can’t deny that I love him,” he said eventually, “but we all know that I’m not what he needs and he’s not what I need. I keep trying. He keeps trying. We’re both wasting our time as it’s doomed to failure. I don’t need your talent to see that.” 

Crawford said nothing. There was really nothing for him to say about it. Even with his talent he couldn't tell how things would go between the former Weiss. Aya's power skewed everything he saw regarding the pair of men, or for that matter any future for Aya and himself. 

Every future but the one he'd seen for himself if the pair continued to be lovers. 

Much as Schwarz needed him, without Aya and Yohji they were all doomed. Better for him to die, than for everyone else to fall to the agents of Rosenkreuz. 

"You could make it work," he finally stated. "But there's a price for that too. Just as there would be a steep price for us to pay if you leave Yohji." 

“You mean he’ll come home, wherever that might be, every night stinking of sex and booze until he finally fucks up his liver beyond repair?” He went silent again before adding, “You said yourself that he’d have to share.” 

He chuckled then, a cynical little sound. “Then there’s his fascination with Schuldig. Have your visions shown you that little development? Sometimes I think you rely so much on them that you forget to simply observe what’s going on.” 

"I'm well aware of Kudoh's attraction to Schuldig," Brad replied. "I think it's the underlying reason he failed to really do our dear telepath any lasting harm that night in the Ani. I think it's an outgrowth of his inability to admit how he felt for you." 

Brad looked around on the bed for his glasses, then stopped. Chances were they'd been left back in his room a week before this spot in time. 

"I also know a few things about him that you are unaware of." 

“Such as?” 

Brad shook his head. "Ask him about his first mission for Kritiker. Beyond that, I'm not going to enlighten you. It's up to him if he wants you to know." 

Crawford thought about his own secret, "And Kudoh isn't the only one fascinated by someone he once regarded as an enemy. It seems to be an epidemic," he stated. "You see, I've been in love with you almost as long as your pretty blond lover has." 

Aya’s eyes widened in some surprise. “I thought it was just lust,” he said. “You wanting something you couldn’t have.” He lifted first his head and then the rest of his body off of him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t intending to tease you. I thought…oh I don’t know what I thought.” 

Brad's mouth tightened into a hard line, eyes going cold. "So if it was just a case of me wanting to roll in the sheets with you once you'd have done me for the hell of it? Thank you but, what would make you think I'd want a mercy fuck or a one night stand from you? I'm the leader of Schwarz, not someone you can fuck once and walk away from, Fujimiya," he grated out. 

“I never have and never will do anyone for the hell of it,” Aya said coldly. “I don’t do one night stands either.” He gazed down, eyes hard, mouth grim. “I’d better take us back.” 

Brad snarled and grabbed Aya roughly by the shoulders, his mouth closing on Aya's in an intensely passionate kiss, weeks worth of visions running like chalk drawings in the rain. 

Aya’s arms went round him and he parted his lips, allowing complete access to the warmth behind them. His body pressed close again, one hand ghosting over Brad’s body, over its contours, learning its dips and smooth planes. 

The American could hardly credit his own senses, half worried that he was having another of his out of control visions. 

The redhead pulled away finally, gazing at him through eyes gone sultry. “I won’t walk away from you, Crawford. That’s a promise.” Then he pushed him back and straddled him, leaning down to capture his mouth with his own. 

Crawford returned the kiss, lips parted, letting Aya be the aggressor. His prick was hard as stone, and he rocked his hips to try and get Aya's attention on something more than their dancing tongues. 

He felt an answering hardness and Aya moaned softly as he moved from his mouth to run lips and tongue down his body, biting down on a nipple hard enough to leave teeth marks. 

Crawford groaned at the flare of pain that lit his nerves as Aya bit him, his cock jumping from the exquisite sensation. Pain, sexual need. 

Real. Totally, completely real. 

But how far would the former Weiss go? 

He shoved Aya away hard enough to send the red head to the floor, "If you want to fuck me, you have to earn the right, Fujimiya." 

Aya’s eyes narrowed and became as hard as pale amethysts. He snarled, sounding much like Zeshin did in a fight and leapt to his feet, his fists clenching and unclenching. “You really love to push things don’t you?” he growled. 

He launched himself at the bed and tore the robe off of Brad’s body. 

For the second time that night Aya had knocked him down on the mattress, his vaunted ability to see what his opponent would do disabled by the chronokinetic power of Aya. 

He did manage to grab Aya by his biceps and shove him aside a third time. "Not good enough, Abyssinian. Not even close," he said, mocking humour curving his mouth into a sensual smirk. 

This time Aya went for his dick, clasping it close to the root and squeezing to the point of pain. “Shut up.” 

Brad's smirk didn't waver, nor did the hardness of his cock. If anything the pain only served to increase the hardness of the flesh in Aya's hand. 

"No," was Brad's reply an instant before his open hand cracked across Aya's face. 

Those incredible eyes widened in shock and his free hand stole to his stinging cheek. Then he grinned his delight at finally having found exactly what he had been searching for before he backhanded Brad in return. 

Crawford's dark eyes narrowed, the backhanded blow had bloodied his lip. He licked it, swallowed, gave Aya a slight nod of his head, acknowledging he'd taken the better half of that exchange. 

His fist slammed into Aya's belly an instant later. "Keep trying. You might earn permission to lick my balls at the rate you're going." 

Aya doubled over at the blow which brought his mouth close to Brad’s unbitten nipple. He bit down on it, drawing blood this time. 

A gasp escaped Crawford at the pain. "Better," he said and punched Aya in the stomach again. 

There was a groan from Aya, the first sound he’d made since telling the American to shut up. It was a groan of pleasure rather than pain and one word escaped his lips. “Yessss,” he hissed out. 

A hand closed in Aya's hair, pulled his head back, Brad's mouth closing on his lips, teeth biting, drawing a bit of blood as he savaged the younger man's mouth. 

Aya returned the kiss, bite for bite, his fingers digging into Brad’s shoulders enough to bruise. 

A groan of need escaped Crawford and he broke the kiss to roll Aya onto his back. He sat there regarding the red-head with passion bright eyes, his jutting cock leaking arousal. "You'll do, Fujimiya," he remarked then got to his hands and knees. "I'm willing to bet there's a bottle of lotion in one of the nightstands." 

Aya didn’t make a move towards the nightstands, instead he reached down to remove his briefs letting Crawford see the unmistakable signs of his own strong arousal. Once free of the garment he laid himself back down gazing challengingly at his latest and most satisfying lover. 

The American reached out and took a firm grip on Aya's cock, squeezing it a bit too hard before he leaned down and took the full length into his mouth, sucking eagerly. 

Violet eyes closed in bliss and one strong, sword-calloused hand tangled itself in thick black hair. The other hand reached blindly for the nightstand, finding the bottle of lotion that Crawford had mentioned. 

He wanted to let Aya cum in his mouth, wanted to drink Aya down and get lost in the simple pleasure of bringing a lover to completion. But he wasn't about to waste this opportunity. 

When Aya pushed the lotion into his hand he took it, sat back on his heels and gave the red-head a questioning look. "Your ass or mine?" 

“Right now I don’t give a shit,” Aya told him. 

"Really?" Brad smirked and flipped the slender man over on his belly, "Me first then," he said as he opened the bottle and dumped a generous amount out into the crack of Aya's ass. 

He recapped the bottle, hauled Abyssinian to his knees, got into position and pressed the head of his cock into the slick, warm cleft of the red-head's ass, probing a bit until he found what he wanted and thrust the movement fast, and hard, going deep as he could drive his cock. 

Brad groaned as his balls slapped Aya's body. Sunk to the root of his dick in Aya, he sighed in pleasure. "Exquisite" 

There was a muffled gasp and then the body beneath him writhed against him trying, impossibly, to impale itself even further. “Kami-sama,” Aya breathed. 

Crawford slapped Aya's hip hard enough to raise a handprint, which had the younger man squirming against him even more. 

Brad thrust forward, and went still. "What do you want, Abyssinian?" 

“Pleasure, pain, I don’t know!” He thrust back again. 

Hard fingers closed on Aya's hips, forced him to be still. Brad bent over to bite the swordsman's shoulder, his cock nudging the right spot inside Aya as he did so. 

"Don't lie to yourself, Fujimiya. You know exactly what you want. Now tell me what it is." 

“Both,” Aya gasped out on a moan of pure pleasure. 

Brad actually grinned. His hand came down brutally hard on Aya's hip as he drew back his hips. A second blow landed as he drove forward, his cock ramming home forcefully. 

Aya thrashed and panted beneath him, emotions and desires long pent up and denied exploded and he screamed out Brad’s name. 

Oracle smirked, realizing that the existence of them all was balanced on the head of a pin, Schwarz-- which now included Weiss-- living or dying based on something so simple as how well he fucked Aya. 

Nails raked along Aya's thighs, Crawford hammering his prick into the willing ass of his former enemy. An enemy he'd wanted like this from that night in the rain when he could have killed Abyssinian once and for all. 

But seeing the future, knowing what could be, he'd let him live. Not because he'd thought they'd need Weiss to overcome Essett, or Rosenkreuz. No, it was because of this moment. 

His cock. Abyssinian's ass. 

And one mind-blowing fuck. 

Because of now. 

Aya was well beyond rational thought. He had been reduced to a quivering, feeling mass of desire. He groaned as he felt his orgasm approach, groaned because he didn’t want this to stop. 

Crawford reached beneath Aya and got a good hold on his cock. He thrust hard, driving his dick deep into the tight and all too willing ass. 

Not even his visions or idle daydreams about this moment had fully prepared him for the reality. 

Being inside Abyssinian, fucking his former adversary, hearing his helpless cries of pleasure drove Brad into a storm of sexual frenzy in which he lost his self-control, fucking the redhead so hard the pain and pleasure turned into a haze of misty what-if on the edge of time. 

Aya cried out as Crawford’s hand found his cock and made a channel for him to thrust into. He did thrust, moaning once again as his orgasm hit him with the force of an avalanche, leaving him struggling to breathe, fighting to regain his emotional equilibrium. 

Crawford shuddered as he came, his mind full of light and sound, reality spinning out like a red carpet to welcome the masters of time. 

Aya was motionless, still trying to catch his breath, his vision clouded until finally he focused on the pillow between his braced hands and arms. It looked welcoming so he collapsed onto it. 

Shuddering Brad lay down beside the redhead, the visions playing through his mind. Kaleidoscope visions, sugar plum fairies in leather and steel dancing a manic head banger waltz in his head. 

Rosenkreuz, the remnants of Essett, the agents of Kritiker spinning on a carousel of time, a flickering madcap movie in his head. 

Aya moved enough to throw an arm round Brad before he shut his eyes, his breath still coming in shuddering gasps. 

Crawford felt his lover's touch and wrapped an arm around Aya, pulling the younger man close, the visions slowing until all that remained was Schuldig running down a beach with Farfarello in hot pursuit. 

And both of them were laughing. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya awoke maybe hours, maybe minutes later. His body felt like one big bruise but he was happy and sated. He glanced across at Brad who was still asleep with a very smug, self-satisfied grin on his face. Aya muttered slightly before smiling himself. They had both got exactly what they had wanted. 

Crawford was enmeshed in a most pleasant dream. He was seated in front of his computer, reading the latest report on the earnings of his holding companies while Aya, beautiful orchid-eyed Aya leaned over his shoulder and kissed his neck, nipping and trying to distract him with a more physical sort of pleasure. 

His cock rose at the red-head's sweet teasing, his body mirroring the dream. 

Aya felt Brad’s arousal against his thigh and grinned a little maliciously before gripping the erection at the root. 

The man's dark eyes opened, his head turning to regard Aya. "Is there something you're planning on doing with that, or were you just warming your fingers?" 

Aya smirked back at him and let go. “I just thought you needed to wake up before your wet dream went too far and I got soaked.” The smirk died leaving his expression serious but not unfriendly. “We should talk.” 

"Well if you'd just covered it with your mouth you wouldn't have had to worry about getting wet," Brad stated. 

"Talk?" He trailed a finger along Aya's bruised cheek, enjoying the knowledge of how the dark smudge had gotten on the man's face. 

Aya rubbed his cheek against the caress. “Yeah,” he murmured, “talk.” 

Brad pulled Aya closer, forced Abyssinian’s head onto his chest and held him there. "So talk," he said as he brushed his hand down the pale body until he reached his ass, the tip of one finger sliding into the crack, teasing. 

Aya squirmed against him. “How am I supposed to concentrate when you’re doing that?” he demanded. “Seriously, Crawford, we need to talk about the future.” He didn’t mention Yohji’s name, knowing that particular problem was his, and his alone, to deal with. 

"Where is that vaunted focus everyone so admires in you, Abyssinian?" Brad questioned as he slid his finger deeper, touching the tight entry to the heat he'd enjoyed not terribly long ago. 

Aya’s eyes narrowed and he pulled away from Crawford. It seemed to him that, now the man had had what he’d wanted he would no longer take him seriously. “Forget it,” he snapped. “I’ll take us back.” 

Much like tropical weather, Brad went stormy in an eye blink, "No you won't. You'll pardon me if I find touching you enjoyable. Since I've not had sex of any kind since I was sixteen please forgive my desire to have it with you again before we have to go back. 

"Now what do you want to talk about?" 

Aya relented and snuggled close again. He couldn’t really help himself. For all Crawford’s faults he was the one and only man in his life that had ever given him exactly what he’d been craving without even really knowing it. 

“The usual stuff, I guess, like where do we go from here? How long before we return to our own time and what the plan is once we get there?” 

"We go back to the others. You face Yohji and turn control of Zeshin over to Farfarello. He won't hurt the boy. He's rather taken with the idea that Zeshin is, in a manner of speaking, his son. 

"We'll train for about a week, then head back to our own time. Once we get there," he smiled the look purely feral, "we bring both Rosenkruez and Kritiker down in flames." 

Aya frowned. "Farfarello might be happy with the idea but will Zeshin?" He sighed. "I was never as cruel to him as I might have been, but I did rather use him as a convenient fuck." 

There was no question in his mind that he would need to talk to Yohji, to hurt the blond and it hurt him too but he knew that there was no going back now. Sooner or later he would lose control of his dark side and it would be Yohji who paid the price if they tried to stay together. 

"Farfarello isn't going to fuck him. He'll teach him how to fight. That's all." 

Crawford caressed Abyssinian's ass, eyes half closed, just enjoying the peaceful moment. He knew it would be a long time until they had another chance at such pleasure. 

"Cruel as it might sound, the best way to make a clean break with Balinese will be to give him a taste of what you really want." 

Aya grimaced. “He says he’s not afraid anymore, that I can do whatever I want but I’m very much afraid that if I gave him even a taste that it would destroy something in him. He’s basically a gentle, protective type.” 

Brad raised an eyebrow, then sighed. "Not that I don't like the idea of fucking you blind and having that privilege exclusively, but you don't want to destroy him by turning your back on him either, do you?" 

A finger nudged at the tight muscle of Aya's anus, "Ask him about his first mission for Kritiker. If he tells you, it might help you to understand a few things." 

Aya frowned. “You’d be prepared to share?” Somehow the idea didn’t sit well with him. “I don’t think he would. He has enough problems with Zen.” He raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at Crawford. 

“And next time it will be me fucking you blind.” 

Brad smiled, "Even better." 

He lay back on the bed, "You really should get him under control. Kudoh I mean. Wasn't it him who pushed you toward Zeshin? Haven't you wondered why? Then there was the whole thing with him and Schuldig. They were going at it rather hot and heavy up in the grove of trees yesterday, relative to our prior when, of course. 

"Don't things like that make you wonder what's really going on behind those jade eyes of his?" 

“I’ve often wondered,” Aya admitted. He chuckled softly yet mirthlessly. “Compared to Schwarz, Weiss were a real bunch of screw-ups. And, for that very reason, we never pried too much into each others pasts or solo missions. I often accused that little Takatori shit of being in denial but it wasn’t him. It was the rest of us.” 

He thought about Yohji and Schuldig together and strangely it didn’t evoke anything in him other than a soft melancholy and the realisation that Schuldig was a lot better suited to Yohji than he was. Of course, one had to take Farfarello into account. Then there was the obvious crush that Kai was feeling for the blond. 

He sighed. Emotions were almost as hard for him to deal with as the right words were. 

"Let go of the past and move forward," Brad told him softly as he pulled Aya into his embrace and kissed him, sucking at a bruise on Aya's lip, giving Abyssinian a taste of pain, a reminder of how good they were together. 

Aya moaned softly into the kiss and then returned it. He hadn’t really got much out of Crawford but that was nothing new and he doubted if things would change very much in that regard. They both kept their own council most of the time. 

Forgetting everything but pleasure for the time being, he rolled on top of Brad and really started kissing him. 

* * * * * * * 

Ken bolted from his room, almost colliding with Farfarello in the hallway. 

"What's going on down there?" he asked the Irishman. 

"Nothing good. Crawford never yells like that." 

Schuldig sighed. He could guess exactly what the problem was but now was neither the time nor the place to air it especially as Kai chose that moment to poke a tear-stained face round his door. 

“What’s going on? Who’s yelling?” 

"Crawford," Ken replied. 

Farfarello eyed his lover, "You know something, Schuldig. Spit it out." 

"Yeah, spit it out," Ken added. 

The door to Aya and Yohji's room swung open, "Where's Aya?' Yohji asked sleepily, draping himself against the doorframe. 

Nagi appeared then rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What’s all the noise about? Schu what have you done now?” 

Schuldig grimaced. “Why should I have done anything?” He eyed Yohji warily. “Shouldn’t you be in bed getting your strength back?” 

"I just heard everyone out here and wanted to know where Aya is. But... something woke me up," he sighed, "and I want a smoke." 

"You don't need a smoke, Yohji. You need bed," Ken said turning an imploring look on Kai. 

Kai frowned at the blond. “I didn’t heal your chest just so you could fill it full of smoke,” he said. “Let one of the others find Aya for you. In the meantime get back to bed or I won’t bother next time you get shot!” 

Schuldig winced. The kid was still furious by the sound of things. He couldn’t really blame him but Yohji hadn’t been the one to humiliate him. 

Meanwhile, Nagi was heading purposefully down the stairs. Oh shit, now they’d all troop down and he dreaded to think what they might find. 

Ken was right on Nagi's heels. Farfarello gave Schuldig a look, *You know something, and whatever it was involved Kai and Brad. So tell me what is going on.* 

Yohji smiled at Kai, "Saving me is appreciated, but if I don't get a smoke then I need Aya to keep me distracted." 

*It was Aya that Crawford was screaming at, not Kai. He’d already thrown him and I out by then. Whatever else happens, Kudoh had better stay up here.* 

*Got it. You keep Kudoh busy, I'll see what Brad's done to Fujimiya.* 

Kai visibly wilted under Yohji’s smile and with a muttered, “suit yourself,” marched back towards his room. 

"Hey! Kai, what's wrong?" Yohji asked, totally thrown off balance by the boy's odd reaction. 

Kai whirled. “What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong! I’m tired of being everybody’s second or third choice if I’m a choice at all!” 

Yohji blinked. "Choice?" Then it dawned on him what the kid meant. 

"You aren't alone, Kai. You aren't alone," he said, a touch of bitterness in his voice. 

“Well whoopee! That makes me feel so much better!” 

Yohji's jade eyes narrowed and he bolted out of the doorway and into Kai's room, shoving the boy backward, closing the door behind him. "What happened to tick you off so bad? Did Aya tell you he wanted your ass too?" 

“Aya? No. Why would Aya want me when he’s got you?” The boy was completely mystified. “It’s Crawford who doesn’t want me, any more than… oh, never mind.” He turned away unable to meet that green gaze any longer. 

Yohji blinked. "Crawford? He..." the blond shook his head. 

"As to why Aya might want you, it's because you're small and beautiful." 

It was Kai’s turn to blink. “I’m what?” 

Yohji smiled at him, "Beautiful. Haven't you looked in a mirror?" 

“Yeah, I’ve looked. I’m nothing special. That’s why everyone wants Aya and not me!” 

"Aya is... well Aya. Sometimes it's fun to want what you can't really have." Yohji sighed realizing just how true those words were. He wanted what he could never have. 

It hurt but he ignored it. He knew emotional pain and couldn't really remember a day in his life when it hadn't been there, weighing his heart and soul down. 

"And don't knock yourself, Kai. You are beautiful." 

“But you have Aya,” Kai said slowly. He knew there was more to Yohji’s words than met the eye but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Aya and Yohji had been together since he’d first met them so why did Yohji seem so sad? 

Yohji sat down on Kai's bed, "That's just it, Kai. I don't have Aya, and...." he sighed, fighting a pain greater than any gunshot wound, "I never will. We know it, but... I can't let go... I... can't let go..." his voice caught and he lowered his head to stare blankly at the floor. 

Kai stopped arguing, all the fight and self-pity oozing out of him at the sight of real pain, deep, unrelenting agony. Throwing caution to the winds he sat down next to Yohji and simply hugged him. 

Yohji turned into the boy's embrace, tears welling in his eyes, "Kami-sama I love him, I love him so much..." Clinging to the younger former Weiss he started to sob. 

Kai let him cry, occasionally murmuring little noises of comfort or rocking him gently. He didn’t know what else to do. The only experience he had of other men was killing them. 

Worn out from the emotional strain coupled with his near death experience, Yohji slowly went limp in Kai's hold, the healing forgetfulness of sleep claiming him. 

Kai leaned back until they were both lying on his bed then he pulled the covers over them, nestled against Yohji and fell asleep.


	12. Stuck in the Middle with You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Ken shoved the door to Brad's bedroom open. 

Aya glared at him from the other side of the bed. “What the fuck do you want, Hidaka?” He was wearing his briefs again and there was the slight discolouration of old bruising on his face and body. 

Brad was just getting ready to slip into bed, but when Ken had walked in he'd been standing there in his fully naked glory, cock half erect. 

Ken stared, he couldn't help it. Brad was... Colour rose to the ex-goalie's cheeks and he turned his head which made Crawford chuckle. 

He smirked at Aya, "Better get him a washcloth. I think he's getting a nosebleed." 

"If it wouldn't virtually amount to incest, I'd invite you and Nagi to come play, Hidaka. But I'm sure you can understand my reluctance." 

There was a slight choking noise from Nagi who’d had the sense to stay out of Crawford’s bedroom. Meanwhile Schuldig had collapsed, sliding down a wall and laughing his head off. 

"I umm... heard someone yelling and I... I'll just be going now," Ken stammered as he tried not to think about the size of the American's cock or the fact that Aya was in the room in nothing but his underwear. 

“Good,” was all Aya had to say on the subject of Ken’s departure. “Shut the damned door after you.” 

Schuldig couldn’t help himself. He howled with laughter. 

Ken scurried out of the room, closing the door behind him. His face was redder than Aya's hair as he said, "Aya and... Crawford?" 

By this time Schuldig was punching the floor in his glee. Or he was until he got a telekinetic slap from Nagi who was also angry enough to do the same to Ken. “How would you feel if someone barged in on us? Schu, shut up!” 

Ken stared at Nagi, frowned then stalked away from all of them, anger plain to read on his face. But he wasn't mad at Nagi, or even at Schuldig. 

No, his fury was for Aya who'd just deserted the man he claimed he loved not a full day after that same man had nearly died trying to protect his sister. 

Nagi sighed, looking from Schuldig to Farfarello and back again in the hope that one of them could help him deal with his obviously angry boyfriend. Ken had put up with enough in his short life and he didn’t want him upset by this. 

The brunet showed no signs of slowing down as he headed for the front door, despite the fact he was only in a pair of sweat pants himself. 

Farfarello shook his head at Nagi, "Let him go." 

For someone that had undergone a psychotic break not so long ago, Farfarello was surprisingly lucid once more. 

"It's not like he's going to go murder a priest," the Irishman added with a faint smirk. 

Schuldig had stopped laughing by now and was staring into the distance. “He’s upset for Yohji,” he said. Then his mind moved on and his brows rose in surprise. “Who’s tucked up in bed with Kai. Talk about change partners!” He grinned up at Nagi who simply glared back at him before stomping back up the stairs to his bedroom. 

Schuldig glanced round and spotted Zeshin curled up on the couch. “Sheesh! He actually stayed here to wait.” 

"Of course he did," Farfarello said. "What else can he do but wait for his master?" 

He walked over to the boy and looked down at him, crouching to get a good look at the boy who was, genetically, partly his flesh and blood. 

Golden eyes opened to regard him as coolly as any stare Crawford had ever given him and Farfarello backed off, "Pretty," he remarked as he walked over to Schuldig and put an arm around his lover. 

*Sleep or fuck?* he questioned silently. 

*Oh, fuck, baby, definitely fuck.* Schuldig might not admit it but the glimpse he had caught of Aya and Crawford had been a distinct turn on. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya had reached the limit of his endurance with Ken barging in like that and he only waited for the house to quieten down again before leaving Crawford’s room and returning to the one he shared with Yohji. 

He shut the door quietly and turned to find Zeshin still on the couch. 

“What are you doing there?” he asked. 

The boy walked over to Aya, silent as a ghost and dropped to his knees at the older man’s feet, head bowed. 

Aya ran his hands through the silver hair before reaching down to raise him to his feet. “Go to bed,” he said not unkindly, “we’ll talk in the morning.” 

Zeshin just stood there, head still bowed. “Aya-san, do you... like me?’ he asked softly. 

Aya knew Zeshin well enough to know that he never asked anything without a good reason so he thought hard about his answer. He remembered how the cat boy had guarded his sister, looking after her from the flight to Singapore to earlier today, or yesterday, whichever it was, when he had taken a bullet in the shoulder for her sake. 

“I like you a lot, Zen,” he said, “and I haven’t been very fair in my treatment of you.” He sighed softly. His time with Crawford had left him tired. “If you’re asking if I love you, then the answer is no. I trust you and like you but everything else between us has to stop. I’m sorry.” 

The boy’s amber eyes regarded him, no emotion visible in either his gaze or on his face. 

“Aya-san, I don’t... love you either. I respect you, but...” he hesitated, wondering if he dared say what was on his mind. Finally he blurted it out, “Aya-san it’s your sister I love. I’ve loved her since I first met her. And I’d do anything for her. Anything.” 

Aya’s eyes widened in shock but he didn’t explode. Zeshin’s care of her made perfect sense now and if it was a choice between the boy in front of him and Cole Randall, he knew which one he trusted his sister with the most. 

“Have you said anything to her about your feelings?” he asked. 

The boy hung his head, “No Aya-san. I belong to you, and I wouldn’t presume to think she might be interested in... an animal.” 

“Zen, you’re as much a human as an animal and besides, none of us is exactly human including my sister. And, as you do belong to me, I know you’ll never hurt her.” He was silent for a moment. “You know that Cole Randall is sniffing round her, don’t you?” 

The boy’s head lifted, his golden eyes narrowed, Zeshin nodding in acknowledgement, “Hai. I know. And... I don’t like it.” There was a hard edge to the boy’s naturally soft voice. “Ken doesn’t like it. He doesn’t trust Cole, and neither do I.” 

“Nor do I when it comes to Aya-chan.” He gazed into those golden eyes, so like Farfarello’s, for long moments. “You, however, I do trust. I just hope she can see sense though somehow I doubt it.” 

The boy nodded. “I won’t let anything happen to her, Aya-san. I swear I won’t.” 

Aya smiled at him then and ruffled his hair. “I know you won’t. You’ve proved it often enough. Now get some sleep. Farfarello’s going to teach you some of his fighting skills so you’re going to need all your strength and speed.” 

Zeshin gave Aya a shy smile, “Thank you, Aya-san.” He bowed respectfully and bounded up the stairs to his room, taking them three at a time as easily as any of the others would have taken two. 

Aya watched him go, a slight smile on his own face. _That should work well as long as the all-seeing Oz doesn’t see a reason to put a stop to it._

He followed the boy up the stairs at a more sedate pace, wondering if Yohji was still asleep. He found their bedroom door wide open and Yohji nowhere to be seen. He frowned, wondering where the blond could have gone. He hadn’t come downstairs with the rest so where was he? 

Then it struck him. Yohji had probably seen how upset Kai had been and was probably trying to comfort the boy. He crossed the landing to Kai’s room, knocked on the door and stuck his head round it. 

What he saw made his fists clench in jealous rage until common sense asserted itself and he thought about his own actions of the past few hours. However, he still stalked across the room and pulled the covers off the sleeping pair. 

“What the fuck!” Yohji snarled, coming up out of a deep sleep where he’d been back at the Koneko. 

But it wasn’t the Koneko, wasn’t his bed or bedroom there. 

But there was a classically pissed off red-head glaring at him. Some things never changed. 

Then it dawned on him where he was. Kai’s room, with Kai in the bed beside him and last night came flooding back. 

“Where in the hell were you all night?” he snarled. “No, don’t tell me, let me guess, you were fucking with Crawford, right?” 

Kai jerked awake and immediately wished that he hadn’t. Yohji was yelling and Aya looked ready to murder him. He cringed back and stayed very quiet. 

“I haven’t been gone more than a few minutes,” Aya said coldly, “but it was obviously long enough for you to crawl in here!” The fucking Crawford he ignored, attack being the best form of defence. “If you must know, I was talking to Zeshin.” 

Yohji blinked, “I... what time is it? I thought it was morning.” 

“It’s about ten minutes to midnight. Now would you care to explain what you’re doing in here?” 

“What did it look like I was doing when you walked in Aya? I was sleeping. In bed with the healer. You know, the guy that kept me from dying.” 

Yohji fumbled for a match, struck it and lit the oil lamp by the bed before adding, “And the reason I came in here was because I wanted a shoulder to cry on, and yours wasn’t available.” 

“What the hell did you need a shoulder to cry on for? And I was only gone ten or fifteen minutes!” 

Yohji got out of Kai’s bed, “This isn’t the place for us to have an argument.” He looked at Kai, “We’ll talk later.” 

He passed Aya as he headed out, taking the red-head’s hand in his. “Let’s take a walk.” 

Kai nodded nervously, still eyeing the infuriated Aya who glared stonily back at him before following Yohji out of the room. 

“What did you mean, we’ll talk later,” he demanded as soon as Yohji had shut Kai’s door. “Stay away from him.” 

Yohji spun around, jade eyes full of rage, “Who in hell do you think you are to tell me I can’t talk to another team mate!” He rammed his fingertip into Aya’s chest, “You can fuck Zeshin with impunity and fucking trade spit with Crawford all over the fucking house, and don’t bother denying it, I’ve seen you kissing him!” 

Aya grabbed Yohji’s wrist and bent it back away from his chest. “Stop fucking poking me! And I’m not denying anything! And what the fuck did you have to cry about?” 

“YOU! I was crying about YOU, you fucking BASTARD!” Yohji shouted as he tried to free his wrist from Aya’s painful grip. 

Suddenly all the fight went out of Aya and he let go of Yohji’s wrist. “Why were you crying about me?” he asked. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Aren’t you?” Yohji countered. “Tell me you aren’t interested in Crawford. Tell me I’m not smelling his cologne on you, and that I’m imagining the fact that you reek of sex. Tell me you got those bruises falling off a horse and not playing Abyssinian gets fucked by Oracle.” 

Yohji turned away from him, “Tell me you love me, tell me you hate me, but don’t ever lie to me Aya.” 

“I… Crawford gives me something I need, Yohji. Something that neither you nor Zeshin can provide. I’m not proud of that fact and wish it weren’t so.” 

He stared at the floor for long moments, fighting to find the words that never did come easily to him. “Zeshin told me tonight that he’s in love with my sister so that’s over. He never was your rival, Yohji. I just… used him.” 

He glanced up then. “I used him and I’ll use Crawford because I can’t and won’t use you like that.” 

“No, no you won’t will you? In fact you won’t fuck me anymore.” Yohji’s voice choked, and he backed a couple of steps away from Aya, “I love you Aya, I really do but... I can’t live like this. You so much as think I’m looking at someone else and you fly into a jealous rage, but you…, you just fuck whomever you want. I...” he shook his head, “I can’t do this anymore. I just can’t.” 

Aya lifted a hand to his head which was aching abominably. He dimly supposed that he’d pushed his talent when he’d transported Crawford and himself into the future. “I know,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Yohji, I really am.” 

“So am I, Aya. More than you’ll ever know.” 

He frowned slightly as Crawford’s words came back to bite him. Something about Yohji’s first mission for Kritiker. It was probably the wrong time to ask but he found he had to know. “What happened on your first mission for Kritiker?" 

Yohji’s head came up as if he’d been slapped, “Nothing. Okay. Nothing at all,” he turned and stalked into their bedroom, intending to get dressed and head out to one of the saloons. Or maybe a brothel where he could have sex without any emotional baggage. 

Aya followed him in, shut the door and leant on it. He shrugged and crossed his arms. “If it was nothing then why not tell me about it?” 

“Because I don’t feel like talking to you.” He pulled a shirt out of a drawer, one of a dark green that set off his eyes. “In fact, I’m not sure I’m going to be speaking to you much anymore at all.” 

“I see. Is that why you’ve been so busily throwing yourself at Schuldig or Kai or anyone else that will have you? So you don’t have to talk to me? You fucking hypocrite!” 

Yohji spun around, grabbed Aya by the shoulders and shook him with every ounce of strength he had, “No, you bastard, I wanted you to see how it fucking feels! I wanted you to know how I feel every time you go off to fuck Zeshin, every time you fucking kiss Crawford! And I did NOT throw myself at Kai. He was upset and I missed you and wanted you and you weren’t FUCKING THERE! I didn’t do anything with him but talk! 

“Can you fucking say that about Crawford? Can you?” 

Aya closed his eyes and let Yohji shake him. He deserved it. He’d betrayed this man just as surely as Takatori had betrayed Ken and Zeshin. 

“Not any more,” he said honestly when Yohji finally let go of him. “It doesn’t mean anything but you don’t want to know why I did it. Even now, Yohji, we share so little. I can kill for you but we never have talked. Not really. You don’t know why I couldn’t be monogamous with you and I don’t know what happened on your first mission. Yet that’s how you want to leave it.” 

Yohji sank down on the bed, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. “You go first,” he said, voice totally devoid of anything. 

“Okay. You told me earlier that you weren’t afraid anymore, so that should give you some clue as to what I need from Crawford. 

“Pain, Yohji, both inflicting it and having it inflicted on me. I don’t even know why I need it, unless it’s some warped way of punishing myself for what I’ve done. Though that’s probably an excuse and it’s always been there. I’d just never had the opportunity to discover that side of myself until I saw Zeshin handcuffed to that bed back in Tokyo.” 

For a few breaths Yohji said nothing, then he stood and backhanded Aya hard enough to knock the other man to the floor. 

“Like that? Is that what you want Aya?” he questioned, gaze reminding Aya of the blond’s mission focus, all business. 

Aya’s tongue snaked out of his mouth to taste the blood on his split lip. He nodded, eyes feverish, staring at the floor. 

“Come here,” Yohji snarled at him, snapping his fingers and pointing to a spot on the floor at his feet. 

And proud, stubborn Aya crawled across the floor to kneel at his feet, eyes still downcast. 

A strong hand reached down, closed in Aya’s hair, wrenched his head back, “You belong to me, Aya. Not Crawford, not Zeshin. Me! Kudoh Yohji! And if it takes beating you, fucking you, or chaining you to my bed, I’m going to do it!” 

He bodily picked Aya up and threw him onto the bed. “On your knees for your master, Fujimiya!” he snarled, pulling his sweat pants off and tossing them aside. His cock was rigid, hard as stone. 

Aya picked himself up and knelt in the middle of the bed, still silent and as obedient as Zeshin. 

“Who do you belong to, Aya?” Yohji asked as he got onto the bed. 

And he was perfectly honest when he said, “You, Yohji, always.” It was true. Crawford and Zeshin had been able to scratch his itch but he didn’t love them the way he loved Yohji. 

Yohji pulled Aya into his arms and held him, kissing his bruised face. “I love you Aya. I really do.” He sighed, lay down with the man still in his embrace. “You told me, now I’ll answer your question.” 

He took a breath, wanting a cigarette, knowing he wasn’t going to get one. “I... have problems with what we do, what you want from me because my first mission for Kritiker didn’t go too well.” 

Aya frowned in confusion. “I don’t understand, Yohji. What happened?” 

“I was caught, Aya,” he replied. “There were five of them. I fought, but...” he held the redhead close. “I was in the hospital for a couple of weeks. They did a good job of putting me back together, but after that I just couldn’t get into bed with another man. Not until you.” 

“They raped you, didn’t they?” He held Yohji close, hands gentle now, stroking his lover’s hair and back. “Kami-sama, Yohji. No wonder you were afraid.” 

“If it was just rape, it wouldn’t be so... hard to talk about, or make all of this with you dammed difficult,” Yohji replied. “Didn’t you ever wonder why I got so protective of women, Aya? Why I tried so hard to get Maki back from Riot?” 

“I always thought it was because of Asuka,” Aya said, “and because you didn’t want to see another woman die like that. I tried to kill the women for you and when you killed Neu… it was like part of you died with her.” 

“I wanted to have Asuka back so bad... to make up for some of the things I did and said to her. Things I’ll never be able to take back.” He turned onto his side, lay his head on Aya’s chest. “That’s why the whole Neu business hurt so much. Even now I’m not totally convinced it wasn’t her.” 

He lay a hand over Aya’s heart, “I love you Aya.” 

“And I love you, Yohji. But I still need to know if you can give me what I need. If you can then I promise you everyone else is history. But what happens if you can’t? I don’t want to keep on hurting you like this.” 

“I’m not sure what to do, Aya. I’ve drowned my past in booze so I could sleep for a long time. But I’m not doing that anymore, and I’ve never told anyone exactly what happened that night.” He pulled Aya closer, held him tight. “They had me for two days before I got away. 

“Can you understand how... difficult it’s been for me to even let you fuck me?” 

“Never having experienced such horrors, I can’t possibly understand, Yohji, but I can see why it would be both difficult and traumatic. You’re afraid of flashbacks aren’t you? Those I can understand as I can still see my parents lying dead and Aya-chan tossed into the air like a rag doll by Takatori Reiji’s car.” 

He raised himself on one elbow and traced designs with his fingertips across Yohji’s chest. “Of course, there’s only one way that we’ll ever find out. You told me you weren’t afraid anymore and I need to know that’s true.” 

“That’s it, Aya. I... don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it, but I’m willing to try, for you.” He touched a pale cheek, brushing his thumb over the fresh bruise he’d made on his lover’s face. “So it’s time to see if I can or can’t.” 

Aya smiled reassuringly and moved away to resume his kneeling position on the bed. He glanced over his shoulder at Yohji before bowing his head in submission. 

“No, Aya, that’s not what we need to test. I... I know I can dominate you, slap you and hurt you. It’s the other side of this business I’m not sure I can do. If you hit me... I don’t know.” 

Aya crawled over Yohji, kissing him tenderly, the sort of kiss he reserved for Yohji alone. When he was sure his lover was lost in the kiss, he tweaked a nipple hard enough to hurt. 

Yohji didn’t seem to notice that too much, he was still kissing Aya as if nothing had happened. Sure he’d felt it, but he’d gotten that sort of treatment from women before and it didn’t bother him. 

The next thing Aya tried was a slap, hard enough to sting his own hand, administered to Yohji’s bare ass. 

“Shit,” Yohji gasped out, the pain sending sparks though his vision. That had hurt enough to make his cock wilt slightly. 

Aya sighed and curled against him, hand gently soothing the print it had made on Yohji’s skin. If one slap had affected him so profoundly, all the other things that he wanted to do were out of the question. He couldn’t imagine Yohji being able to tolerate being restrained let alone using anything more adventurous. 

Yohji sighed, relaxed into the caress over his burning skin. It had hurt, but, relative to being shot, it hadn’t hurt at all. 

And this was for Aya. His Aya. The man he loved. 

“Let’s try again. I... just need to get focused. I don’t think I really was,” Yohji told his lover. 

Aya shook his head. “You were focused on the kissing and that was deliberate on my part. I thought if I could distract you… make it nothing at all like you experienced before…” 

He sighed again. “Don’t try to do it all at once, Yohji.” 

Yohji pulled Aya into his arms, rolling partly on top of him before his lips closed over Aya’s mouth, the kiss hard, hot, demanding and yet, at its heart it was a plea for understanding, for time, another chance. 

Aya held him close, deepening the kiss in his own desperation. If he lost Yohji… 

He hated himself at that moment. Sex with Crawford had been fun but it had driven Yohji into Kai’s arms already. It was not worth losing the man he loved for his own selfish desires. 

Yohji groaned and reached for Aya’s cock, gripping the silk and steel flesh, stoking the fire and hoping he didn’t melt in the crucible that was Aya’s love. 

Something in Aya gave like the bursting of a dam. Did it really matter who dominated who? If Crawford had taught him anything it had been that pleasure could be reached either way and Yohji meant more to him than just a means to pleasure. 

“Yohji, please, fuck me,” he whispered. 

The jade eyes searched Aya’s face while Yohji’s hand continued to pleasure the red-head, 

“I thought you wanted to hurt me, Aya. I want you to be happy. Just…, just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.” 

“I’ve just told you what I want, Yohji. I don’t give a shit who’s in charge anymore. If it helps, imagine I’m one of the bastards that raped you.” 

And still he couldn’t say it out loud. I’m yours, Yohji. Do what you want with me. 

“No, I won’t do that Aya.” Yohji replied, his hand slowing, jade eyes dark with repressed memories. “You... don’t know what happened.” He let Aya’s cock go, put his arms around Aya, whispering, “It wasn’t just rape, Aya. I was handcuffed, blindfolded, alternately gagged or made to suck cock. Fucked. Beaten.” He shuddered, turned to press his face into Aya’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of Aya, of Crawford, holding Aya tightly while the memories he’d shoved into the deepest darkest recesses of his mind crept into the light. 

Aya held him, running a soothing hand through his hair. It explained so much, why Yohji couldn’t do the things he wanted him to do, why he was so afraid of being bottom. “Never again, Yohji,” he said quietly. And then, finally, he could say it. “I’m yours. Do whatever you want to do. We’ve both seen where my selfishness has got us.” 

Yohji laughed, the sound without humour, full of self-mockery, tinged with hysteria and no little trace of fear. “It scares me more than you can know, Aya. The whole thing scares me so bad when I let myself remember, that I just... don’t think about it, ever.” His arms held Aya tighter, painfully so as he finally confessed. “They fucked me, hurt me, nearly killed me and... I wanted more. I was begging them for more... 

“That’s why all the women, Aya. I couldn’t face what I did with those men, what I begged them to do.” 

“What you begged them to… “ Aya’s eyes widened in shock before narrowing in anger. All he could think about was the fact that Yohji wanted exactly what he wanted but was too scared or proud to live with the idea. And because of that he had abused Zeshin and gone to Crawford for his needs. 

“YOU BASTARD! Why didn’t you tell me all this sooner?” And then all control escaped him and he was beating the crap out of Yohji. 

Yohji tried to protect his face with his arms, trying to ward off the worst of it with his hands, but Aya was in a rage, cold fury driving his fists into the blond with punishing force. After a series of blows to his face, his body, Yohji started to really fight back, his fist slamming into Aya’s jaw with all the power of the blond’s shoulder behind it. 

Aya fell back with the sheer power of Yohji’s blow but was straight back into the fight within seconds getting in blows wherever he could. 

Aya’s fist connected with Yohji’s mouth and the blond felt his lip split. He was getting really pissed, angry with Aya for treating him like this, angry with himself for confessing his darkest secret. 

“MOTHERFUCKER!” he roared and reached for the wire intending to make an end of the whole miserable business. 

Aya saw the movement, one he’d seen countless times before, and grabbed Yohji’s wrist, trying to keep his hand away from the watch and the wire coiled within it. 

Yohji slammed his left fist into Aya’s jaw, twisting his body, going for the top spot which would give him more leverage. 

Aya saw a whole galaxy of stars but still struggled, knowing that he was fighting for his life now. Then, in a moment of blinding clarity, he stilled. All the fight went out of him and he offered up his throat for Yohji’s wire. 

The cold filament wrapped around Aya’s throat, bit, drew a thin line of blood as it cut into Yohji’s fingers. “No more, Aya. NO FUCKING MORE!” he snarled into the younger man’s face. “This shit has come to an end. You’re mine, I’m yours and I’ll fucking KILL the next man you fuck, or who you let fuck you if I haven’t given you permission. And you better fucking ask!” 

Aya tried to swallow, to form words but the wire round his neck prevented him from doing either. He couldn’t even nod his agreement to Yohji’s terms, if that was what they were. It sounded more like an ultimatum but one that he could live with… if he was allowed to live at all. 

The wire eased around Aya’s throat. “Tell me you understand Aya, or I end this here and now for us both.” 

Aya took a deep, rasping breath and nodded. It was all he could manage for now. 

The wire slithered from around Aya’s throat, whipping back into the watch. Yohji touched his lips, frowned at how bloody they were, winced as he felt the cuts on his fingers from the wire. More to add to the collection. 

He returned his attention to Aya, knelt there, jade eyes still hot with rage then he made a fist and punched Aya in the belly, “Don’t ever hit me in the face again, Aya. I like how I look, babe, and I’m sure Kai isn’t going to agree to repairing self-inflicted shit like this.” 

Aya doubled over the blow but incredibly he smiled. Couldn’t Yohji see just how beautiful he was with his lips reddened with blood? Blood that Aya wanted to lick off them if he was allowed. 

His throat was still too raw to allow him to voice any of this, however, so he remained kneeling, head bowed and breathing hard, waiting for Yohji to make the next move. 

A hand closed in his hair, wrenched his head back, the grip brutal as the kiss that the blond gave him. 

Aya gasped into the kiss and his lips parted to give Yohji complete access to his mouth. He was done fighting. 

When Yohji pulled back the blond was breathing hard, jade eyes bright with lust. He shoved Aya down on the bed, reached into the nightstand, got out the stuff they used for lube, smeared his erection and hauled Aya to his knees roughly before sliding home in the younger man’s ass. 

Aya groaned as he was penetrated, his whole body seeming to clench around Yohji though whether it was a futile attempt to expel him or a desire to draw him even further in he didn’t know until he pushed back against Yohji trying to get him even deeper. 

Gripping Aya’s hips so hard he would leave bruises Yohji drove his erection into his lover, the pace hard, fast, relentless. 

All Aya could do was ride the storm of Yohji’s rage. He no longer knew, nor cared, what day of the week it was, which way was up or anything else for that matter. All he knew was he was getting the fuck of his life and that even through Yohji’s furious using of his body, he could feel the love the blond felt for him and that he returned. 

All of it conspired to send him right over the edge, further than he’d ever dared let himself go before and he screamed out his pleasure which came out as Yohji’s name. He groaned softly and kept repeating, “Don’t stop, oh please, please don’t stop.” 

Yohji didn’t stop, his cock pounding inside Aya, the rough pace continuing. 

“You’re my bitch, Aya. And I’ll kill anyone that touches you,” he told the redhead, the brutal pace of his thrusting continuing until he came inside his red-haired lover, groaning the younger man’s name as he slapped Aya’s hip so hard he bruised his hand. 

His overloaded senses and the slap to his hip brought Aya to orgasm; the hardest, strongest most powerful release he’d ever had. He moaned out Yohji’s name once more before whispering, “Your bitch, Yohji, always.” Then it all became too much and he escaped into blessed oblivion. 

Covered in his own blood, Aya’s blood, battered and sore, Yohji lay down beside his lover, closed his eyes and was quickly asleep. 

Downstairs in his bedroom Crawford picked up his glass of brandy, held it up and said, “To the end of our conflict and the beginning of the end for Rosenkruez.” He downed the brandy and threw the glass into the fire place, smiling at the new future he’d created. 

A future they might all survive.


	13. Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Aya didn’t know how many hours later he awoke, aching and sore with the pressing need to relieve himself. Careful not to wake Yohji, he slid out of the bed, pulled on sweatpants and headed for the privy. 

A darker shadow in the back yard made him stop in the door way, peering out into the dark. The shadow resolved itself into Ken and he relaxed and headed for the outhouse. 

The ex-goalie had spent the entire night standing outside in the chill air, hoping that the cold would take away some of the anger, but it hadn’t done anything to alleviate his fury. 

If anything the long sleepless hours had only made his anger worse. 

Ken watched Aya heading for the outhouse, bloodshot dark eyes narrowed, angry that Aya could treat Yohji so callously, sleep around like a whore the very day Yohji had nearly died to save his sister. 

Aya needed to be taught a lesson, and he knew Kudoh didn’t have the guts to do it. Not to Aya. He loved the red-haired prick too much. 

But Ken had no such compunctions. 

Aya reached the outhouse, relieved himself and headed back to the house and the warmth of his bed and Yohji’s body. He nodded to Ken on the way, vaguely wondering what he was doing outside at this time of night. 

A fist rocketed into Aya’s face, the bursting stars accompanied by Ken’s snarl of, “You fucking bastard!” 

Aya staggered back a couple of paces, a hand going to his already battered face. “What the fuck?” 

Ken glowered at his former leader, the dim sunlight of dawn showing the bruises and cuts that marked Aya’s face. Old and new. There was still dried blood clinging to the man’s mouth, smeared across his cheek. 

Yeah, Aya must have had a great time with Crawford, he mused, full of anger for how he’d treated Yohji. 

“I’ll tell you what the fuck!” Ken growled at him, “Yohji, the man who loves you more than he loves his own hide nearly dies for your fucking sister and what do you do? Do you stay with him, comfort him? Hell no, you go and fuck Crawford!” Ken stalked toward Aya, hands knotted into fists. “You fucking bastard I should kill you!” 

“You don’t have the right,” Aya said coldly. “Only Yohji has the right to kill me.” A slight movement of his head as he spoke and a gust of wind lifting his hair away showed the wire mark on his neck. 

“Now, if you’ve finished with the self-righteous bull crap I’d like to go back to him.” 

A bright flash, the flare of a match being lit on the porch showed them that they weren’t alone an instant before a drawling voice said, “Very touching, Ken-Ken, but the day I need you to help me kill Aya is the day hell will freeze solid.” 

Aya crossed the yard to his lover and then amazed Ken by kneeling at his feet, head bowed. 

Ken stared, shocked speechless by what he was seeing as Yohji reached down to stroke Aya’s head, fingers ruffling through the red hair. 

“It’s okay Ken, go up to bed and get some rest. The war between Aya and I is over.” 

The brunet shook his head, seeing in the bright glow of the cigarillo that Yohji was smoking that the blond’s face was as much of a mess as Aya’s. “Okay, Yohji.” 

Still shaking his head Ken went inside heading for Nagi and his own bed thanking whatever god might exist that the level-headed telekinetic was his lover not either of the men he’d had crushes on at one time or another. They were both, as people around here said, mad as march hares. 

“Hot-headed idiot,“ Aya grumbled as Ken passed them. He got to his feet, wincing slightly as a bruise on his ribs popped. One gentle hand touched Yohji’s bruised face. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. 

Yohji smiled, winced at the pain of torn lips, kissed Aya gently, then took another drag from the cigarillo. 

“Yeah, but he’s our hot-headed idiot. He loves us, Aya, don’t forget that. Our fighting hurt him as much as we hurt one another.” He touched a cut on Aya’s cheek, “That will leave a scar unless Kai agrees to heal it.” 

Aya shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” he said indifferently before he stopped and thought about it. “Actually, it does. I’m happy to carry your scars.” He secretly doubted whether Kai would come anywhere near him after his behaviour of the night before. 

“I just want to get our training over with so we can go home. My poor sister wants out of corsets and back into mini skirts and I want to face whatever awaits us head on instead of running away.” 

“Me too, I’m tired of being here and I want to go home. Our real home.” Yohji touched the cut on Aya’s cheek again, his expression barely visible in the dark. “Yeah, I think that should stay there to remind you of tonight. At least for now.” 

He finished the cigarillo, flicked the smouldering butt into an empty jar and took Aya by the arm, “Bed. Now,” he ordered. 

Aya smiled. He liked this facet of Yohji and would allow the blond to be as dominant as he liked…or needed. For now… 

He didn’t argue just let Yohji lead him into the house and back up the stairs to their room. 

* * * * * * * 

Crawford sat up and reached for his glasses. It wasn’t full light yet, and he was still tired, but he had things to do and he could laze away the days once Rosenkruez and Kritiker were gone. 

He pushed the covers aside and got out of bed, his ribs still sore from Fujimiya’s fists. He smiled slightly as he walked to the basin and pitcher on his dresser, splashed cold water on his face. 

What he wouldn’t give for a hot shower, or a real civilized bathroom with real plumbing and a flush toilet. 

Soon. We’ll have all of that soon. 

*Schuldig, are you awake?* he thought, knowing that he’d be waking the telepath up with such an inquiry even if he was still asleep. 

*Yes, Vater, what is your command?* Schuldig sounded tired but sated and happy enough, ready to get on with the job in hand. 

*In one hour I want everyone downstairs in the kitchen to eat, then we start our practice. Make sure Cole joins us also.* 

Brad dried his face, looked at the fading bruises and grinned. *I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised today, Schuldig. Things have... changed.* 

*Well I know you finally got in Aya’s pants. Did it make that much of a difference?* In his own room, he was shaking Farfarello awake and climbing out of bed. 

He hoped it had. He’d never seen Crawford as rattled as he had been the night before, although minutes after Aya had entered his room he’d been fine again. He frowned. It couldn’t have been minutes. 

Of course! Aya must have taken them some when else for a while. He wondered how Kudoh had taken the news. He guessed Hidaka had been angry enough to tell the blond exactly what his lover had been up to. He sighed. And yet, Crawford seemed happy with all developments. It was time to stop speculating and see for himself. 

*You’ll see how much of a difference it made,* Crawford replied, *as soon as you see Kudoh and Fujimiya.* 

By the time Schuldig and Farfarello made it down the stairs Brad was already in the kitchen, a pot of coffee on the stove which had already achieved a good deal of heat, enough to drive the early morning chill out of the room. 

Winter was coming on, the leaves on the trees turning colours, but they wouldn’t be around to see any real cold. They were heading back to their own time. 

And it couldn’t come soon enough for the leader of Schwarz. 

He sat down and regarded Schuldig, the faded bruises on his face quite visible in the morning light streaming into the room. 

Schuldig’s brows rose. He knew the red haired Weiss kitty had claws but Crawford looked like he’d done ten rounds with Mike Tyson. 

*You want me to get healer boy before I wake the others?* he asked. 

Crawford considered it, swept his tongue around inside his mouth, felt a tooth move and nodded. *Might be a good idea.* 

Farfarello studied Crawford for a moment, “You can’t see what he’s going to do anymore, can you?” 

“No,” Crawford admitted. 

Schuldig had been heading for the door but that little conversation brought him up short. “Is that likely to be a problem?” he asked. “Or is he completely yours now?” 

“He won’t be any trouble. He’s as much part of Schwarz as Ken is. I think it will be good for me to practice with someone I can’t see, just in case,” Brad remarked. 

Farfarello went to their poor excuse for a refrigerator and pulled out the eggs and bacon, “I want to go back to our own time. I can’t stand the food here,” he muttered. 

“I think everyone is ready to go home.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Schuldig said as he continued out of the door. He climbed the stairs again and started knocking on doors, getting them all up for breakfast. When he reached Kai’s door he knocked and poked his head round it. 

“When you’re dressed you’ll need to do a bit of work on Brad’s face,” he said. 

Kai glowered at him. “No fucking chance,” he said flatly. 

Schuldig was across the room in a split second and had Kai by the shoulders, shaking him. “You listen to me, you little shit, if Crawford says jump we all jump. The only thing we question is how fucking high, got that?” 

He let the boy go then and ran a hand through his untidy hair. “I know he upset you last night and I don’t even know why but I’m sure he had good reasons. It might be an idea for you to find out what they were.” 

He turned to leave before he thought about something else. “You might want to check on Aya, too.” Then he was gone. 

Great, just fucking great. Not only Crawford but a pissed off Aya too. What a wonderful way to start the day. 

He got dressed and crossed the landing to knock on Aya and Yohji’s door. 

Yohji was face down on the bed, sound asleep, and very little short of gunfire or explosions was going to wake him up. 

Aya was just about awake enough to invite him in. Nervously he opened the door and gasped. Aya was a mass of bruises from temple to waist. His lips were split and there was a deep cut on his cheek. From what Kai could see of him, Yohji looked just as bad. If this had been because Yohji fell asleep in his bed… 

“It was nothing to do with you,” Aya said, as if he’d read his thoughts. “Can you do anything for Yohji?” 

Somewhere deep in a dream of pain and pleasure, a dream where Aya had him tied down, fucked him, slapped him, Yohji whimpered, his cock hard, wanting to be sheathed in flesh. 

Aya’s flesh. 

But it was Aya doing the fucking, with Crawford lazily teasing one of his nipples with the tip of an elegantly manicured nail while Kai, beautiful little Kai was kissing Aya. 

Kai edged round the bed, still wary of Aya after his jealous rage the night before. The redhead was ignoring him, however, as he ran a hand through Yohji’s hair urging him into wakefulness. 

On the stairs, Schuldig came to an abrupt halt as Yohji’s dream exploded into his vision. *Oh boy! That’s quite a scenario you’ve dreamed up.* 

Yohji groaned, the sound purely sexual as he opened his eyes and blearily looked around, *Fuck you, Schuldig,* he told the telepath his thought clear and as concise as any sending the German himself could have managed. 

Schuldig’s chuckle echoed in his head and then was gone as the telepath left his mind. 

“Bengal’s here. Let him take a look at those bruises,” Aya was saying while Kai was hovering by the bed, obviously nervous. 

Yohji groaned as he turned over in bed, his morning erection making the covers stand up, showing just how much Yohji managed to hide under his tight jeans. 

“It’s barely daylight,” he complained in true Yohji fashion. 

“Nevertheless, we’re all wanted downstairs apparently,” Kai said, “and you might not want them to see the state of your face.” He glanced across at Aya and bit his lip. “Yours needs attention too.” 

“Never mind about me. See to Yohji.” 

Yohji glanced at Aya, reached out and pulled Kai onto the bed, “Yeah, take care of me, Kai.” 

Aya’s eyes narrowed. “If I need permission I think you need it too,” he said. Anything else he might have to say he would say later…in private. 

Kai yelped and turned huge eyes on Aya, wincing slightly as if expecting a punch in the mouth. However, all the redhead did was shake his head, swing his legs out of the bed and reach for his jeans. He hissed slightly in pain as he did so. 

*Aya, get back in bed. You need some healing too,* Yohji thought, his mental voice slipping into Aya’s mind as smoothly as his cock fit into Aya’s ass. *And as far as Kai goes, he’s lonely. I...* he shook his head, *I can feel it Aya.* 

Aya’s eyes widened at the ease with which Yohji had broached his shields. Even Schuldig couldn’t do that unless he dropped them. He turned to stare at Yohji before lifting his legs back onto the bed with a slight sigh of relief. 

He gazed at Kai for a moment, seeing the boy’s beauty as if for the first time and feeling his desire to be loved by someone, whoever it might be. He frowned, trying to work out where all these new skills had suddenly come from. 

Then it clicked into place. Something profound and fundamental to their survival had happened last night. By giving himself to Crawford he had changed the pre-cog’s future and by finally letting Yohji in completely he had opened a link between them like the one he was certain that Schuldig and Farfarello shared. 

*So…are you asking me for permission to fuck him? If you are, well he did save your life so the answer is yes.* 

*No, I want him to be ours, Aya. Yours, mine, probably Crawford’s too if... well I had this really explicit dream.” The blond frowned, realizing something, *And I... liked what we were doing, the four of us.* 

Kai nearly jumped out of his skin when Aya lay back on the bed and started laughing. It was something he’d never seen the redhead do before and, even battered and bruised as he was, it made him even more beautiful. 

*No longer so vanilla then, Yohji?* 

He stopped laughing and regarded Kai again. *I’ve no objections to that, as long as he’s agreeable.* 

Kai, meanwhile, chose to ignore all the strange distractions and get on with his job. He placed his hands just above Yohji’s face and a blue nimbus spread from his fingertips to touch the golden skin. As Aya watched all the cuts and bruises disappeared as if they’d never been. 

*I was never vanilla, Aya,* Yohji replied. *I’m used to multiple sex partners, but they’ve only been female, and you know why.* 

He smiled at Aya, *Why don’t you try kissing him?* 

Having finished with Yohji, Kai glanced up at Aya to find him regarding him steadily. He cleared his throat nervously. “You want I should help you?” 

Aya raised a hand to the cut on his cheek. “Don’t heal this,” he said. Kai climbed over Yohji to reach him and work his magic. Aya waited until he’d finished before reaching out and snagging him by the back of his neck and pulling him down for a kiss. 

Kai went still for a second before, tentatively, he responded. 

Yohji watched Aya kissing Kai. He’d seen his lover kiss Zeshin and all he’d felt from that was -- wrongness. When he’d seen Brad kissing Aya he’d felt a flare of jealousy, of wanting to be involved, or wanting to tear Aya away from him. But watching him kissing Kai was like seeing two pieces of a puzzle fall into place. 

He scooted in closer, kissed Kai’s shoulder, a hand reaching around the teen to hold him in a tentative embrace. 

Kai shivered and shuddered between them. For so long the forgotten one of the team he now had the undivided attention of the two most beautiful members of that team and, although nervous, he was loving the things they were doing to him. 

“Easy Kai, we aren’t going to hurt you,” Yohji murmured into his ear, a hand sliding down the boy’s belly, up his chest the caress gentle. His lips brushed the nape of Kai’s neck, Yohji’s free hand reaching out to grasp a handful of Aya’s hair. 

Aya broke off kissing Kai to kiss Yohji over the top of him one of his hands still stroking Kai’s hair. When he broke away from Yohji he was smiling. 

“We’d better go down to breakfast and anything else the all-seeing Oz has planned for us today,” he said aloud. His voice whispered through Yohji’s mind like a caress. *Thank you.* 

*Never forget that I love you, babe. Always and forever,* Yohji thought to him as he forced Kai to lean back so he could kiss the boy who was cradled in his arms. *He wanted this, Aya. I’m as sure of that as I’m sure of my love for you.* 

He broke the kiss with Kai, smiled at the boy. “Don’t worry, there will be more. A lot more, anything and everything you want Kai.” He glanced at Aya, “Yeah, we don’t want to rile Oz and his guards from the Emerald City.” He chuckled, caressed Aya’s face, “Love you,” he said, then looked at Kai, “love you too kid.” 

Aya actually chuckled at the way Kai’s eyes widened at that. He smiled at the boy for the first time and was even more amused when Kai gasped in amazement. “You’re growing on me too,” he said before swinging his legs out of the bed. If he didn’t move, none of them would. 

Yohji scooped the stunned boy up in his arms, giving him a quick kiss, “I’ve seen how you look at me, Kai,” he whispered into the boy’s ear. “I know what you want, and what you want is what you’ll get.” 

Kai swallowed hard before throwing caution to the winds and his arms round Yohji’s neck. Perfectly willing to oblige, Yohji set his lips to Kai’s in a sweetly exploring kiss. 

Aya smiled at the two of them for a moment before saying, “Out of bed. Now. We don’t have enough time to play before Brad sends Farf after us.” His eyes went distant for a second. “Unless…” 

“Oh hell yeah,” Yohji said, a wicked glint in his jade eyes. 

Aya tilted his head to one side as he considered how much time they would need. He had to avoid his dawn meeting with Ken, of course, and the time he’d spent with Brad so going backwards in time was not an option. And, if he took them forward they could take all the ‘time’ they wanted. 

Grinning slightly he climbed back onto the bed. “Hang on to your hats…or whatever,” he said and took them forward two and a half days. Suddenly it was dusk rather than morning and Aya smiled at them, obviously pleased with himself. 

“Now so long as we don’t run into ourselves we’re good,” Yohji said as he lay Kai down on the bed which was now neatly made and leaned over to give Aya a scorching kiss. 

*We won’t. By this ‘time‘ we‘ll be back in our own time.* Then he stopped thinking about the paradoxes of time and concentrated on pleasure. 

*Good enough for me, Aya.* 

Yohji reached for Kai’s shirt, “You’re over dressed for this little party, Kai.” 

“Meep!” Kai exclaimed making Aya laugh aloud again. He crawled across the bed and attacked Kai’s jeans. 

Yohji grinned, “I think I liked that noise. Why don’t you make cute sounds like that, Aya?” Yohji questioned as he stroked a hand over Kai’s sleek body. 

Aya shot him a look. “Don’t push your luck, Yotan,” he warned though his eyes were sparkling. 

Kai finally realised that he might as well enjoy this and started wriggling out of his clothing. 

“But Ayan...” Yohji drawled, “don’t you know what a sound like that does to a man?” Yohji laughed, “You’ve already got me wrapped around...” he smirked, “well not your finger, that’s damned sure.” 

Yohji pulled Kai’s shirt off and tossed it aside, then he laughed again. “Oh man, this is too funny. We left our clothes back in time.” He leered at Kai then winked, “Guess you’ll just have to deal with two totally naked horny men. Think you can handle it, Kai?” 

Kai swallowed. Hard. Yohji he was fairly comfortable with but Aya still had the capacity to scare the shit out of him. He opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was another squeak as Aya’s hand closed round his cock. He was instantly hard. 

“No fair, Aya, you took the best part for yourself!” Yohji complained right before he leaned down to lay a scorching melt-your-heart kiss on Kai’s mouth. 

“That’s because you talk too much,” Aya said with a smirk. Then he bent his head and ran his tongue around and across the head of Kai’s cock, tasting the healer for the first time. 

A wicked gleam lit the blond’s eyes, “I’ve got an idea,” he said. “You need to let go of that and move over there,” he told Aya, pointing to the foot of the bed. 

Aya looked up and rather reluctantly let go of Kai. “I do?” he asked. Sighing slightly he moved down to the foot of the bed. “Now what?” 

Yohji smiled down at Kai, “Crawl right here,” he told the boy, patting a place on the bed that would put his cock near Aya’s face. “Get on your knees, Aya.” 

Aya knew what was coming next and got into the right position, smiling at Kai in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. 

Yohji reached into the bedside table and grinned when he found the jar of greasy gunk they’d been using for lube. He stood up, slicked down his cock and stepped behind Aya, “And a fun time will be had by all,” he laughed as he gripped and slipped a finger into Aya. 

He didn’t know what the future might hold, but just knowing what the next few hours would bring brought a grin to his face. 

He’d slain the last of his demons, stepped through the fire, and followed Aya into a better life. 

It was all working out just fine. He had Aya, and Kai, and just maybe they would work one more little detail out and he’d have the world in his hands. Or rather he’d have the men he most wanted. 

Aya. Kai. And a certain dark-eyed precog. 

* * * * * * * 

Aya took them back to exactly when they’d left and they had just finished dressing themselves when someone hammered on the door. 

Yohji looked at Aya, closed his eyes and tried to ‘feel’ who was on the other side of the door. He smiled at Aya, “It’s for you.” 

Aya rolled his eyes and told whoever it was to come in. 

Brad opened the door and walked in, taking in the trio with knowing eyes. “And you didn’t invite me? I’m wounded,” he said, actually giving the three a smile that reached his eyes. 

“We got the feeling you were more interested in getting everyone to breakfast,” Aya said sweetly. “So we started without you.” 

His words elicited something suspiciously like a giggle from Kai who was far more self-assured than he had been hours or seconds before. 

“So I see,” Crawford replied. He walked over to Aya, glanced at Kudoh, and pulled the redhead into his embrace, kissing him thoroughly. 

Then he let Aya go, gave a completely at ease Yohji the same treatment, then looked at Kai. “Happy?” 

“Very,” Kai told him. “I suppose you ‘saw’ all of this?” 

Aya draped an arm over the smaller man’s shoulders and gazed across at Brad and Yohji. He didn’t think that any of this had come close to what Brad had been seeing before last night. 

He thought about the happenings of the ‘night’ and grimaced slightly. Despite Kai’s healing of his visible bruises, he was still sore from the sheer number of sessions he’d been through since ‘last night.’ 

“I saw only one path through the visions I had when you were in the room with me, Kai. So...” he shrugged, “I took the chance and walked onto the only path that might find us all alive at the end.” His dark eyes clouded, not with a vision, but with an emotion unfamiliar to him. 

“I’m sorry Kai.” It was the first time he’d apologized to anyone-- and been sincere-- in years. 

“That’s okay,” Kai said softly. “It hurt at the time but…” He shrugged. “I’ve come to realise that you never do things without having a good reason. I just wish I’d remembered that last night instead of getting so upset.” 

Crawford reached out and caressed Kai’s face, “And I wish I’d been able to explain why I did what I did. But you can’t change the future that way.” He lowered his head and kissed Kai gently, making no demand. 

Kai came out from under Aya’s arm and threw his own round the pre-cog’s neck, kissing him back. He broke off fairly quickly, knowing somehow that Brad had more to say. 

“We’re facing a completely different future. Now all I have to do is make sure nothing happens to knock us off that path,” the Schwarz leader explained. “It’s why I told you that I love you, Aya. It was the only way to set this into motion.” 

No one in the room was more shocked at those words than Yohji. He glanced at Aya, “My dream this morning..” he shook his head. “It was the four of us in bed together.” 

Brad smiled at Kudoh, “You’ll start to notice even more strange things. Effects of the sorts of powers we all have, they overlap to some degree, and the effects will be...” his expression turned smug, “nothing short of spectacular.” 

*You have permission to fuck with Brad but both Kai and I have to be there too,* Yohji told Aya silently. 

*Likewise,* Aya shot back, surprising the blond. 

*I love you,* Yohji replied. 

“Well now that’s settled, let’s go have something to eat and get busy. We’ve got a lot to do today because tomorrow we’re going back to our own time,” Brad replied. “It’s time for the devils of Rosenkreuz to meet the demons of Schwarz.” 

* * * * * * * 

Ken sighed and stared longingly at the plates piled with food. They were waiting for Crawford to come down with the missing members of Schwarz. Notably they were all former Weiss, only Ken and Zeshin there at the table. 

Cole was seated beside Aya-chan on her left, a wary and tense Zeshin on her right. 

Something was definitely going on there, but damned if Ken could figure out what. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. 

He was still tired from lack of sleep, but he’d live. He’d gone longer without rest during his years in Weiss. 

Restless, he put a hand on Nagi’s thigh, squeezed gently. 

Farfarello for his part was watching Cole the way a cat would watch a bird it was considering making a meal of while Cole himself was smiling and chatting softly with Aya, telling her about a horse he’d once owned that liked to drink beer. 

“If he didn’t get his beer on Saturday nights he’d get downright cantankerous and refuse to leave town until I brought him one.” 

Aya-chan giggled softly, her eyes firmly fixed on Cole’s face. 

Schuldig was silent and pensive, occasionally glancing at Cole with a trace of his old sneer on his face. 

Nagi placed his hand over Ken’s and returned the pressure. 

The sound of feet on the stairs heralded the arrival of the others. There was the unexpected sound of Aya’s laughter which came to an abrupt halt when he reached the door and saw Cole sitting so close to his sister. 

Ken stared at Aya as he came into the room. He couldn’t remember hearing his normally quiet team mate laughing like that even once in all their years together in Weiss. 

Whatever had happened between the redhead and Yohji had apparently been for the best. 

Crawford walked to his seat at the head of the table. The two seats to his right were empty, the ones on his left were filled by Schuldig and Farfarello. There was an open seat beside Ken. 

Yohji led Aya to the chair nearest Brad, taking the next one in line for himself. 

“Are we ready to eat?” Brad asked. 

Kai slipped in next to Ken with a somewhat dreamy smile on his face. 

“More than ready, Vater,” Schuldig said glancing from one to the other of the four that had just entered. Whatever conclusions he came to he kept to himself, however, not even passing a mental message to Brad. 

Crawford picked up the plate nearest him and helped himself to some pancakes, “I believe we were going to get a bit of practice in during the rest of the week. I’ve decided that the ‘week’ ends today. We’ll practice, get a good night’s sleep,” he looked pointedly at Aya, Yohji and Kai, “or at least rest. But in the morning, relative to this time, we’re going back.” 

His gaze swept the table, “Any objections?” 

“None at all,” said Nagi with real feeling. “Personally I can’t wait to have a really hot bath. I feel like I’ve got a month’s supply of dirt on me.” 

“You should get Kenken to wash more often then,” Schuldig told him with a grin which vanished when he got a telekinetic slap on the back of the head. “Ouch! Vicious brat!” 

“You asked for that,” Aya said from across the table. 

“I know where you keep your cigarillos, Schuldig,” Ken remarked. 

“Ouch,” Yohji said. “That’s hitting a man where it hurts, Ken.” 

“Damn straight,’ the brunet replied. 

Brad chuckled, “Play nice, children.” 

“You think today will be long enough to get the training out of the way?” Schuldig asked more seriously. “I thought we needed another week at least.” 

“Let’s just say a few things of great importance have happened that negate the need for that much training,” Brad replied. 

Zeshin smiled at Aya-chan and passed her the biscuits. “There’s butter and honey, or would you rather have the blackberry preserves?” 

On the other side of the girl Cole was offering her the scrambled eggs, “Miss Fujimeeah, can I help you with the eggs?” 

Farfarello’s left hand fell on Schuldig’s crotch, cupping his lover’s groin. *I know what I want more practice with,* he thought. 

Schuldig smiled at his lover. *You don’t need the practice, Farf. You’re already an expert! But I’ll be happy to oblige.* 

Aya was eyeing Cole but he addressed Zeshin. “Farfarello’s going to teach you some of his fighting tricks,” he said. “They might be very useful.” 

“I would be pleased to learn anything Farfarello is inclined to teach me,” Zeshin replied, his gaze focused past the girl on the man beyond her. “Perhaps Aya-chan would like to learn a bit about fighting so she’s not so dependent on us for her salvation.” 

“Oh yes! Can I?” Aya-chan was obviously thrilled to bits with the idea. “I’m so tired of being excess baggage.” 

“You’re not that,” her brother told her, “and as far as I’m concerned you can learn whatever you wish.” 

Cole smiled, “I could teach her to use a gun.” 

Zeshin smiled, but there was a frosty glitter in his gaze, “And I can teach her to fight with a piece of wire. Much quieter, don’t you think?” 

Yohji frowned, “She’ll need gloves to use a harigane.” 

Zeshin set a pair of gloves on the table. They looked like kid gloves in a pale dove grey, that would go up past the girl’s elbows. They appeared as if as if they’d fit Aya-chan perfectly. Close inspection showed that they weren’t exactly typical ladies gloves however as they were thicker than the material could account for. 

Aya-chan smiled at Zeshin. “For me?” she asked. “Thank you, Zen, they’re lovely as well as… useful?” She glanced at Yohji as she asked the question. 

“Can I see those?’ Yohji asked, reaching past Cole. 

Aya-chan picked the gloves up and passed them to Yohji, before returning her attention to her plate. “What do you think?” she asked. 

Yohji felt the gloves. They were soft composed of several layers of thin kidskin. Much better protection than the gloves he wore, and much less likely to cut through. “They’ll protect your hands,” he told her. “Which is good, I’d hate to see you with the scars I’ve got.” 

He looked at Zeshin, “She might be better learning the naginata or something else. Throwing the wire isn’t easy, and she’ll need more than those gloves to protect her.” 

“I know. I’ll work something out.” 

Yohji regarded Aya, “What do you think, Aya? You know what the wire is like, do you want her to learn how to use it?” 

Aya glanced up from the piece of toast he was buttering. He thought about the damage the wire could do and the physical and emotional strength needed to actually throttle someone with it. “No,” he said. Seeing his sister about to argue he held up his hand to silence her. 

“If you really want to learn how to use a weapon, then get Zen to teach you how to use a naginata effectively. In my opinion it’s better suited to a woman as it can keep an opponent further away and doesn’t take the same amount of strength to use well as the wire does.” 

“A gun would keep people far away from her,” Cole pointed out. 

“Yes, it would, wouldn’t it,” Brad stated. 

“If you wanna learn to use a gun, Miss Fujimeeah, I’m a pretty good shot.” 

Zeshin frowned, “So am I.” 

Ken nodded, “Very true. He’s almost as good as you, Aya.” 

Aya ignored all the others and gazed at his sister. “Do you really want to learn how to use a gun?” 

Aya-chan’s mouth set in a somewhat mutinous line and she folded her arms and gazed straight back at him. “Ranichan, I don’t care what I use as long as I can stop feeling so useless. But I am going to learn how to use something!” 

Aya didn’t argue with her: he simply nodded. “If you decide on a gun, ask Yohji, Brad or Schuldig to teach you. They’re the best I’ve seen. But, if you’ll take some advice, try a variety of weapons first and find what’s best for you.” 

Her eyes narrowed. “Does that include your katana?” 

He winced. He‘d seen his sister with his father‘s katana. Once. She‘d nearly beheaded the family cat. “No. Practice kendo with a bamboo sword for a couple of years and then I might buy you a wakizashi.” 

Cole stared, shook his head, “What in tarnation is a wakeezah wakee... Hell I don’t even know how to pronounce it.” 

“It’s a sword,” Aya told him without elucidating about its use as a one-handed indoor weapon. “So, what do you want to do?” 

“Learn several weapons,” Aya-chan said meekly. She knew she wasn’t going to win over his katana and had asked more out of devilment than any real desire to learn. 

He smiled at her then. “Good girl,” he said. 

“I will be pleased to teach you whatever you like,” Zeshin told her. 

Cole frowned. He was being shut out completely. He looked to Yohji for support, but the blond was busy folding a piece of bacon neatly onto half of a biscuit. 

“I know a bit about knife fighting,” he offered. 

There was a sparkle in Farfarello’s one eye as he said, “Oh, well if she wants to learn that, I’d be more than happy to teach her.” 

Aya nearly choked on his toast at that offer. 

Cole looked alternately at Nagi and Kai. “So what do you boys fight with? Guns or something else?” 

Kai shrugged. “Sai, mostly,” he said. “They’re a kind of knife.” 

Nagi, however, gave Cole one of his more evil looks. “My brain,” he said very deliberately. 

Aya excused himself at that point and disappeared into the hall way. The sound of his rich laughter was heard seconds later. It continued for a moment or two before he re-entered the dining room as if nothing had happened, took his seat and resumed eating. 

“Well perhaps we can all takes turns with the lovely and very curious Aya-chan,” Brad remarked. “I’d be happy to show her how to make good investments once we get back to our own time. Oh, and of course if she wants to learn how to use my Heckler and Koch .45 she’s welcome to do that also.” 

“What about you, Schuldig, do you feel up to showing her how to use a pistol?” 

Schuldig shot him a look that said, unmistakably, why me? “Happy to oblige,” he said aloud. *I’ll get you for that, Vater!* 

Brad’s dark eyes met Schuldig’s over the rim of his coffee cup, *Have you forgotten she is part of Schwarz, Schuldig? Or do you need to be reminded that we stick together?* The amusement that had lit those dark eyes a moment ago was gone. 

*Sorry, Vater. Of course I’ll teach her if she doesn’t go to you or Yohji first. As a matter of interest, why isn’t anyone taking up lover-boy’s offers?* He was very careful to keep the mental conversation private. Randall might pick up on the fact they were communing but not the content. 

*Aya doesn’t want him near Aya-chan. He doesn’t care for Cole, who is, a relative outsider and whom you know rifled through my papers and was reading my journal.* Crawford set his coffee cup down and started to eat. *Think about it Schuldig. If Rosenkruez were here in this time with us, what would have happened to anyone we found fucking with my things.* 

“Since our small land war with Everette is over, I’m afraid your services will no longer be required Mr. Randall,” Crawford stated. 

“Oh, well I was hoping to work with you for a spell. I don’t rightly know what I’ll do if you’ve got no work for me.” 

“You might apply to be a bodyguard to a Mr. Algernon Porter.” 

Aya glanced up from his food to frown first at Brad then Schuldig. Then he shrugged and concentrated on his breakfast. Whatever it was about Randall that made him unacceptable to Crawford suited him down to the ground. 

His sister, however, was not so pleased. “But…I thought Cole-san was coming with us.” 

Cole-san? It was Randall-san yesterday. Aya glanced up at her and she flushed to the roots of her hair. 

“I was kinda hoping to tag along,” the half-red man said. 

Crawford set aside his fork, wiped his mouth and placed the napkin back on the table. “Well, you see, there’s the little matter of really needing someone to help safeguard my interests here. I was serious about you going to see Algernon. He’s not a well man and he needs someone to keep the wolves at bay, in a manner of speaking. With us leaving, there will be no one here to keep him from harm.” 

Cole’s expression turned thoughtful, “I suppose so. But I was rather hankerin’ to see what the future was like. Plus, well Miss Fujimeeah here is, well she’s been nice enough to say I could be her beau.” 

Zeshin’s eyes narrowed, and it was all he could do to keep from hissing at Cole. If he had a tail it would have been lashing in agitation. “And I have asked her brother for permission to court her,” the teen said coolly. 

Aya-chan turned huge, tear damp eyes to stare at Zeshin. Then she whispered, “Excuse me, please,” and fled the room. Running up the stairs to escape to her room. 

The boy’s shoulders slumped and every trace of colour drained from his face. Feeling sick he too bolted from the room, heading for the privy. 

Cole was looking at Aya, “You gave that kid...” he shook his head and got to his feet ready to go after the girl. 

Aya moved almost as quickly as Schuldig and reached the door long before Randall got near it. “You’ll leave my sister alone, Randall, if you know what’s good for you.” 

The man stared at Aya, his form dimming, Aya feeling a strange chill as the insubstantial form of the Phantom Gun moved through him. 

“What the…” Then Aya remembered Cole’s power and cursed fluently in Japanese. 

Cole ran for the stairs. 

Crawford just sat back in his seat and picked up his coffee, *This should be interesting. Chronomancer versus the Phantom Gun. My money is, of course, on Abyssinian.* 

Aya shifted time and arrived outside Aya-chan’s room before Cole had even reached the stairs. He rapped on the door. 

Aya-chan opened it to peer out at him, her face tear-streaked. “Go away!” 

“And let Randall in here? No way!” 

Aya-chan became angry in her turn. “So you palm me off on poor Zen?” 

Cole had gotten about half way up the stairs by this time. Aya simply stopped time for him and held him there. Then he took a deep breath and faced his angry sister. 

“I didn’t ‘palm you off’ on anyone. Zeshin asked if I would object and I told him I wouldn’t simply because I trust him where I don’t trust Randall.” 

Aya-chan flushed again and wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Aya, what have you done? Did you let Randall…” But he couldn’t say it, couldn’t stand the idea of the cowboy with his hands on his sister. 

“Not all the way,” she mumbled. Then her head came up. “I’m still a virgin, Ran.” 

“Okay,” he said on a slow expiration of breath. “But you’re coming home with us and he’s staying here. Don’t hurt yourself anymore over him.” 

She glanced at the motionless man on the stairs. “Can I at least say goodbye?” she asked. 

He frowned slightly. “As long as it’s not alone.” 

Her eyes narrowed and she pouted but her brother merely stared impassively back at her. “Oh all right,” she capitulated. 

“Then come and finish your breakfast.” 

She went back down to the kitchen with him, passing the motionless Cole on the stairs. Suddenly she giggled. “Are you going to let him move anytime soon?” she asked. 

“When you’re back in company, yes.” 

They entered the kitchen and he let Cole go. 

Cole blinked. Started up the steps and stopped, hearing Aya-chan’s voice from the kitchen. 

The men were laughing. Probably at his expense. 

Running a hand through his dark hair he decided that now was as good a time as any to make his departure. They’d made it pretty clear they no longer wanted or needed him. 

But it rankled that he’d had a taste of the girl and would get no more of such sweet nectar. It was enough to sustain him for a few months, that taste of her. But it wouldn’t last. Wasn’t enough. 

She’d be wasted with that boy. 

But life was full of waste, his own a pretty good example. Life lost to a ghost wind, soul filled with dust. Neither alive nor dead. Trapped somewhere between. 

*Goodbye, Miss Fujimeeah,* he thought. *Have a good life.* 

Then like mist vanishing in the morning sun, the Phantom Gun faded from sight. 

Aya had a good view from his place at the table and he saw Randall simply fade away. Somehow he knew that his sister wouldn’t get her opportunity to say goodbye but that was probably for the best.


	14. I'm Coming Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Co-written with zheyrrhyn

Crawford spun aside, narrowly missing the sweep of Aya’s katana, struggling not to become so engrossed in the beauty of the man, his grace that he slipped up and let the blade tag him. 

But with the raging erection straining his trousers it was difficult. 

“YAIYAIYAI!” Farfarello’s scream rang in the air, the Berserker taking Yohji’s wires around his arm and pulling hard enough that the blond killer was nearly taken off his feet. 

Fire licked out, melted the wires, freeing both men. “GO YOHJI!” Ken bellowed as Zeshin came at him, the boy moving fast, naginata high. 

Schuldig had to jump as high and as fast as he could to avoid Kai’s twirling sai and he was beginning to tire from the effort. 

Nagi and Aya-chan watched the chaos in the back yard from the safety of the veranda, Nagi wincing and occasionally tutting to himself at a particularly rash move by any of the others. 

*Vater, can we take a break yet? I’m exhausted.* Schuldig’s whine came across the link. 

*No! Do you think Rosenkruez will let you sit down and catch your breath?* was the reply from the American. 

The distraction proved his downfall, the sting of the katana biting the skin across his shoulder telling him he’d be dead had the attack been meant to kill. 

Aya frowned at him, wondering why he had finally scored a hit when he hadn’t managed it all morning. 

Nagi had finally had enough of Ken’s rashness and, lifting Zeshin into the air put him down across the yard, well away from his idiot lover. 

Kai meanwhile darted in and touched a sai to Schuldig’s throat. 

Ken just shook his head, “What was that for?” he asked Nagi. “We were doing fine.” 

Zeshin, feeling somewhat like a chess piece removed from the game examined a set of gaping cuts in his shirt. Ken’s bugnucks had gotten very close. 

“STOP!” Brad shouted as Farfarello tackled Yohji, taking the blond to the ground hard enough to knock the wind out of him. 

The silence was punctuated only by the sounds of heavy breathing as they all fought to catch their breath again. 

Nagi stepped off the veranda and crossed the yard to stare into Ken’s face. “You were concentrating too hard on Farf and Yohji’s fight and let Zeshin get behind you. Do that in a real fight and you’re history. I thought you knew better than that!” 

Ken gave Nagi a sheepish grin, “I forgot he wasn’t on my team,” he admitted. He wiped sweat from his face, “And that’s not going to be an issue when we’re fighting Rosenkruez, is it?” 

Brad frowned and touched the cut that was spilling blood down his shoulder. It wasn’t deep, but it did sting. “You could have had me that time,” he remarked to Aya. 

Farfarello got to his feet and reached a hand out to Kudoh who took it and let the Irishman help him up. He was winded, breathing hard, and not just from having the shit knocked out of him when he’d been tackled. 

He started coughing, and blinked in surprise when Berserker reached into his pocket and took away the cigarillos. “Hey...” he wheezed, “those... are...” 

“Bad for you,” Farfarello said. 

Schuldig grimaced. If Farf was going on one of his no smoking kicks, Yohji and he were in for a rough time. Then he saw Aya grin at Farfarello and he knew they were doomed. 

Brad looked at Yohji, “Kudoh, the only thing standing between you and lung cancer is Kai. Don’t you think it’s a bit selfish of you to demand so much work from him?” 

Then he levelled his gaze on Schuldig, “Both of you get winded too fast.” He held his hand out to Schuldig, “Hand them over.” 

“Oh... come... on,” Yohji panted. 

Ken sighed, “Give it up, Yohji. We outnumber you.” 

“Fuck you... Kenken.” 

Ken smirked, winked at Nagi then quipped, “I don’t think Nagi would like that, Yohji. Besides, at your age, and in your condition I doubt you have the stamina.” 

“If Nagi wasn’t... standing there... guarding your ass...” 

Ken smiled sweetly, “What? You’d wheeze me to death?” 

Yohji glared. “Keep it up...” 

Ken burst out laughing, “Oh but I do!” 

There was a breathless snicker from Aya and a decided snort from Nagi. 

Schuldig sighed and handed over his cigarillos. There was absolutely no point in arguing at this moment. Besides, he and Yohji could always sneak away for a quiet smoke from time to time. 

Aya-chan came to join them then bearing a tray of tea and coffee. “Having seen all that,” she said, “I think I’ll try a gun.” 

Brad actually laughed at her comment, patting the girl on the shoulder in a fatherly gesture that left Yohji and Ken staring in shock, and brought a confused look to Zeshin’s face. 

Berserker grinned and offered his arm to Yohji, “Lean on me old man, I’ll help you to your rocker on the porch. 

Brad almost choked as Balinese leaned like a geriatric case on Farfarello’s arm and started to shuffle along, “Damned whippersnappers these days...” he muttered. 

He took a cup of the coffee and said, “As soon as we get back to our time, I’ll get you a light pistol and we can start practicing. Well...” he frowned, “right after we kill Terror. That is number one on our agenda.” 

“So you’re saying we escaped Terror just to put the fight off?” Schuldig demanded. 

Aya nodded as he took a cup of tea. “It has to be that way or we create far too many paradoxes. We cannot be in two places at one ‘time’ so I can’t take us anywhere but where we were. Sorry Schu.” 

“Can we beat them now?” Kai asked. 

“Not if this morning’s fiasco is anything to go by,” Aya retorted. 

Yohji let Farfarello go and coughed, shook his head, spit and frowned starting to think that the Irishman and Crawford were right. He did need to quit. 

He took a cup of tea frowned and wished it was beer. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t call it a fiasco,” Brad remarked. “I’d call it a success really.” He touched the blood soaking his shirt, “You’ve never gotten me before, though,” he glanced at Schuldig, “I was distracted by someone’s whining.” 

“I guessed as much,” Aya said. “I could have frozen you in time but then I couldn’t touch you so I’m not certain how my power can aid me in a fight.” 

“By letting us get the drop on our enemies,” Brad responded. “And if you hold even a few of them when we are fighting a group it will give the rest of us a chance to take down the agents we are battling. It changes the odds.” 

Farfarello had an odd glint in eye as he turned to Aya, “You can stop them in time, right?” 

Aya nodded his answer to Farfarello‘s question. Brad’s idea made sense and that in turn made him feel more useful. He smiled as he caught the look of dismay on Schuldig’s face when he realised he had to drink his coffee with no accompanying smoke. 

“You can also take someone ahead in time by a fraction of a second or a minute or whatever, correct?” the Irishman asked. 

Now Ken, Zeshin and Yohji were all watching Farfarello, as was Crawford, but the American’s expression was one of satisfaction, as if he’d been waiting for something all along. 

“Yes,” Aya said, not quite sure as to where Farfarello was going with this. But if anyone could work out a way to use a talent for fighting he could. 

The Berserker appeared to be working something out in his head. “I want you to stop someone who is in motion, running preferably, or moving at combat speed. Stop them and then hold them in place.” 

Ken nodded, “Okay, I’ll be the guinea pig.” 

Suddenly realising what Farfarello was trying to get at, Aya grinned. “Okay, Ken, start moving.” 

Ken ran at Farfarello, bugnucks clicking into full extension. 

Aya froze time for Ken, effectively bringing him to a halt although he appeared to be in full flight. 

Farfarello grinned, “Now I’m going to run toward him, speed up time for me slightly and then let us both go.” 

Farfarello leapt forward. 

“Don’t kill him,” Nagi called to Farfarello as Aya released Ken and compressed time for Berserker. 

Farfarello just grinned. 

The pair of men collided, Ken going down in a heap of flailing limbs, Farfarello spinning around to land on Ken’s chest with his Bowie knife at the brunet’s throat. 

“Damn...” Yohji breathed. 

Brad just stood there smiling like a proud father. “Excellent,” he said and turned to Aya, “Do you still think your power is of no use?” 

“I just needed someone to work it out for me,” Aya said with a smile. “I should have seen it for myself but Farf beat me to it.” He grinned at the Irishman. “Well done but could you let Ken up now?” 

“But I like having attractive men under me, and Kudoh keeps running away,” Farfarello said, licking his lips suggestively then grinning like a fiend before he rose off of Ken laughing. 

Brad stood surrounded by his team, his family, hearing laughter seeing smiles. So much had changed since the death of the Elders. 

Once Rosenkruez was gone, once Takatori Mamoru had paid for his crimes... 

Soon. But not soon enough to suit him. He slipped an arm around Abyssinian, gave him a quick kiss. “We’re done everyone. Go get cleaned up and packed because we leave in the morning.” 

* * * * * * * 

Aya looked down at the small bag at his feet. It wasn’t a lot to show for an adult life spent in the killing game. There was more in Bangkok but only another suitcase full. He smiled to himself. Everything that mattered to him was right here. Yohji, his sister, Kai, Brad and the rest of Schwarz, his katana, a six shooter and the yellow duster coat that he’d grown rather attached to. 

He glanced up to see if Yohji was anything like ready yet and that reminded him of something he wanted to say. “Don’t force energy on me this time, Yotan. Just let me take as much as I need. We‘re not in a hurry and you‘ll need your strength at the other end.” 

The blond nodded, “Well maybe Schuldig won’t be screaming inside my head this time either,” he replied as he studied the clothing lying on the bed. Other than his new black coat and three pairs of jeans he’d brought along all he had was the green button down flannel shirt he had bought in this time a few pairs of underwear from their own. 

The rest of the clothing he’d brought or bought in this time he was leaving behind. 

Sighing he dropped onto the bed, “I need a smoke,” he complained. 

“Didn’t this morning teach you anything?” Aya asked as he rolled his eyes. “You’re losing your edge, Yohji, getting short of breath too quickly. Many more years of smoking and your lungs will be fucked.” 

He glanced at the revolver sitting in its holster on the nightstand. “Not taking that?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Yohji fell back on the bed and just stared at the ceiling. “Aya, it’s hard. I...” he shook his head, “I’m a drunk and I’m a nicotine addict. Trying to totally stop both at the same time... fuck... I don’t think I can.” 

Aya sat down next to him and ran a hand through the honey hair. “Are you saying you’re an alcoholic?” he asked. “Or do you just drink to ease the pain?” 

Yohji sighed, “You know the answer to that, Aya. You’ve seen me shit-faced enough times. You’ve seen me shaking because I wanted a drink.” He reached up and touched Aya’s face, “You make it better. And... I think it will get easier because I’m not afraid of you anymore.” 

“You never had any reason to be afraid of me, Yohji. I’d never really hurt you.” He went quiet for a moment, eyes distant as he made a decision. 

He leaned down and opened one of the bag’s smaller compartments. When he came back up it was with a pack of Marlborough and a lighter. 

“I can’t expect you to give up all your addictions at once,” he said with a smile. “Just promise me you’ll try to give up when you’ve got the alcohol beaten.” 

Yohji stared at the cigarettes, “What are you doing with those?” he asked as he accepted the pack and shook one out. 

“I’m a lot better than I was when we got here, Aya. I can go a whole day without drinking more than a beer or two.” He moved to the window and lit the cigarette. 

“Then you’re probably not an alcoholic. If you were that beer or two would have you stupid drunk. As to what I’m doing with those, well you should recognise the lighter. They’re yours, Yohji. I hid them away hoping the cigarillos would put you off smoking. They haven’t so…” He shrugged. 

“Well I wasn’t about to accuse you of stealing my cigarettes, but yeah, I do recognize them, Aya.” He took a long drag off the cigarette. Even stale it tasted like heaven. 

“As far as getting drunk goes, I’ve always had an annoyingly high tolerance for alcohol. It’s why so many of my solo missions involved clubs or bars.” He frowned, remembering one particular solo mission and realized it no longer held the power to hurt him. 

He leaned on the window ledge and took another drag of the cigarette, exhaling out the window. 

“KUDOH!” 

Brad’s voice from below them. 

Yohji frowned and looked at Aya. “So, who owns me? Is it you or him I wonder?” 

“Me,” Aya said without hesitation. “He just gets you on loan and then only if you‘re willing. And if I can put up with your smoking so can he.” 

He leant back on the bed, completely at his ease for perhaps the first time since his parents had been killed and his sister hospitalised. 

“Any objections to that?” 

Yohji studied the cigarette as if he could find the answer to Aya’s question in the cherry red glow at the end. “Nope. None,” he replied, a smile brightening his eyes. 

“Good.” He might have said more but was interrupted by a knock at their door. 

Yohji frowned at the door. “Yeah, I know, Brad wants me to put out the fucking cigarette!” 

“If Schuldig can’t smoke, neither can you!” Farfarello said from the other side of the door. 

“So let Schu smoke,” Aya said easily. “If I have to passive smoke why shouldn’t you?” 

There was some incomprehensible muttering from the other side of the door, “He’s your lover. Up to you if he dies. Just don’t bitch at me when you’ve both got lung cancer,” Farfarello replied. 

Yohji crushed the stub of the cigarette out on the sole of his boot and flicked the butt out the window. “So how many of those did you smoke?” 

“Just the one,” Aya said with a grin. “I didn’t realise you knew I smoke the occasional cigarette.” 

Yohji smiled, “I’ve caught you at it. Besides, you took one from me and smoked it once, remember?” 

Aya leant his head back and chuckled. “Of course,” he said, “I should have remembered that one. And it did have the desired effect. You pounced on me. Gave me the idea that you might just like me after all.” 

“Well like is a rather mild word for how I feel about you, Aya.” 

“Yeah but you didn’t actually tell me that till we got to Hokkaido did you? At the time you were still pretending that you were only interested in anything that wore a skirt.” 

The blond flopped down onto the bed, “Well maybe you should have put one on if you wanted my attention,” Yohji teased. “I’d have taken the hint.” 

“It crossed my mind a couple of times,” Aya admitted, “but I didn’t want to run the risk of traumatising Ken.” 

He turned on his side, leaning on one elbow and let his free arm come to rest across Yohji’s chest. 

“We’ve got time,” Yohji commented as he stroked Aya’s forearm. 

“All the time in the world,” Aya agreed, “And even if we didn’t I could make it.” 

Yohji smiled and pulled Aya on top of him, “Yeah, you could at that.” 

* * * * * * * 

Aya-chan eyed the corsets and hoop she’d had to wear with acute dislike. They would definitely be staying here. She had changed her clothes already, opting for a simple black mini-skirt and blue off the shoulder sweater. She stuffed her jeans and all her other modern clothes into a carry-all and zipped it up. She was as ready as she would ever be. 

Part of her was looking forward to returning to her own time and culture, another part was dreading it, knowing that it would part her from Cole Randall forever. Where she was going he would be long dead and gone. 

Tears began to flow but she wiped them away impatiently. Why should she cry over him? He hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye and after she’d trusted him enough to let him touch her breasts. 

And what had Ran been thinking to give Zeshin permission to court her? She stared unseeingly as she remembered the way the cat-boy had looked after her both here and before, how he had fought to save her from the gunslinger, taken a bullet in the shoulder for her. Cole had not come to her rescue, Zeshin and her brother had. 

She remembered her reaction to his words at breakfast and gasped. He must think she hated him. She needed to apologise. 

Gathering her courage in both hands she left her room and tapped gently on Zeshin’s door. 

The door was opened. Zeshin said nothing, and after the first glance to see who it was, he didn’t look at her either. He also didn’t leave the doorway so she could enter. 

“I came to apologise,” she said, “I wasn‘t running away from you at breakfast. I was running away from the situation. I was embarrassed.” 

Zeshin just nodded fallen back into the aloof silence that he’d kept the short time he’d been with Weiss. 

She bowed her head. Her apology obviously hadn’t been enough for them to be friends again and the thought saddened her. She simply didn’t know what she could do. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again and turned to go. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Fujimiya-san,” he murmured, head still bowed. “I was the one who... sought something beyond reach. You have nothing to be sorry for, I’m the fool.” 

“No, you’re not a fool. I was the one who was stupid. I…I guess I was looking too hard for excitement instead of seeing what was already there.” 

Zeshin gave her a wary look, his hair falling into his face. He pushed it away. “You don’t have to pretend to like me just because Aya-san sent you here to say you’re sorry. It’s okay. I understand.” 

She stared at him, his words making no sense to her at all. Then she felt her temper rise. “Ran didn’t send me. I came to apologise because I thought I might have upset you. Strangely enough I am capable of thinking for myself without my brother doing it for me!” 

She turned on her heel, prelude to storming back to her own room. 

Zeshin sank down on the bed. It was no use. No matter what he said or did it was always the wrong thing. 

Amber eyes watched Aya-chan leave, tears welling up. He closed his eyes willing them away, wanting the confusion in his heart to be gone too. 

He’d never loved Abyssinian. Worshipped him as his God, yes, but loved him... no. He’d been helpless to deny the man anything. 

Abyssinian no longer wanted him, and, fool that he was, he’d tried to pretend he was something he could never be: a man, like Aya himself... or Cole Randall. 

The boy wrapped his arms around himself and lay there on the bed, huddled up into a small ball of misery. 

* * * * * * * 

Farfarello patted the grey horse and led it out into the yard, the pink and orange of dawn still fading from the sky. The beast nibbling at his hair playfully. The Irishman had packed his few things-- mostly knives and a few changes of clothes into the saddle bags. 

Brad glanced out the window and frowned. *Schuldig you’re going to have to explain to him that the horse cannot come with us.* 

*Why me?* A mental sigh. *Okay.* 

Schuldig stepped out of the back door and stood leaning on the veranda rail. “Crawford says the horse stays,” he told the Irishman. “And if you think about where and when we’re going he’s got a point. What are you going to do with a horse in Bangkok while facing Terror?” 

Farfarello’s mind showed the telepath just how uncooperative he was prepared to be. Without making any reply he climbed onto the horse and waited for the time to leave. 

Brad rested his firm behind against his desk, his luggage piled on top of the gleaming oak. *Tell him no, and have him get his ass in here. It’s almost time to leave.* 

*Why don’t you tell him? You can see how much notice he’s taking of me!* 

Aya strolled into the study with his bag and stopped short, his eyes narrowed. “Why have you piled your stuff on top of the desk?” 

“Because I’m taking it,” Crawford replied as he headed for the door intending to deal with Farfarello. 

Yohji entered the room and paused, “Brad, he can’t bring a desk,” Yohji stated. 

Dark eyes regarded him coolly, “Yes he can. Don’t bother to argue, you will not win.” 

“Maybe I won’t win, but Aya will.” 

Aya however had spotted the scene in the garden. “No fucking way! What the fuck do you think I am? UPS?” 

Yohji looked outside and just shook his head. “Jezuz Chrrist,” Yohji muttered, “Farfie wants his horsie and Braddie wants to bring his toy box.” He slipped an arm around Aya, “All I need is you, baby and my world’s complete.” 

Aya smiled and put an arm round his waist as he surveyed the scene outside. Hopefully Crawford could talk some sense into Farfarello. It wasn’t so much that he couldn’t take the horse but the fact that they had to go back to the same time and place that they’d left from. Which meant, of course, inside a house with enemies about to arrive. It was no place for Farf’s equine friend. 

Not that he was going to let anyone know that the horse and desk were no bother. A slight smile crossed his features as he waited for Brad to win his discussion with Berserker. 

Farfarello just stared at Crawford as the man entered the yard, “Come on Farfarello. We can’t bring your friend right now, but as far as the horse is concerned, Aya will be back for him in a matter of minutes.” 

The Irishman didn’t move. 

“Farfarello, as soon as we have a safe place for...” he paused, unable to hide the smirk, “Cloudy I’ll make sure Aya comes back to get him.” 

Yohji chuckled softly, “He actually named the horse?” 

Aya shrugged. “Lots of people name animals,” he said, “though what makes Brad so certain I’m coming back for the damned thing is anyone’s guess. No, strike that. He’s probably seen it in a fucking vision.” He eyed the desk. 

“You know, I think I prefer the horse.” 

“It’s a nice horse, and you’re probably right. He probably knows you’ll come back for it, though, how can his visions work around time. That’s what I want to know. Or maybe he’s just lying to get Farfarello to come with us.” Yohji said. “As far as the desk goes I think Brad has his own special reason for wanting to take it, unfortunately.” 

“If he’s told Farf I’m coming back for the horse then I’m coming back for the horse. I won’t have promises made for me that I’m not prepared to keep. He knows that much about me by now.” 

“I don’t think it’s working anyway,” Yohji remarked because Farfarello hadn’t moved a muscle to dismount. 

*Schuldig, find out what his problem is,* Crawford ordered the telepath, his exasperation at Farfarello all too evident in his mental tone. 

*Okay Farf, you heard the man. What’s wrong with Aya coming back for… Cloudy?* 

*You know Brad doesn’t mean it, Schuldig. He won’t have Aya come back for my horse, and I don’t want to leave him. He wants to help us fight Terror anyway, don’t you?* 

As if answering Farfarello’s unspoken question the horse snorted and stomped one hoof. 

*Aya, could you talk to him, please?* 

*If you link us, yes.* The link snapped into place and Aya could feel Farfarello’s disbelief of Brad’s words and his fervent desire not to leave the horse behind. 

*Farfarello? What if I promise to come back for him?* 

*Will you?* Farfarello asked still watching Brad distrustfully. 

Brad turned and went into the house, “Farfarello, unless you want to spend the first two weeks in our time period drugged and drooling you’ll get off that horse and come inside.” 

*I promise I’ll came back for him just as soon as we can get a stable and a field for him,* Aya sent. *And to that promise I’ll add another. To the horse it will seem as if we haven’t even gone.* 

He kept his mind open for Farfarello’s decision while he folded his arms and stared at Brad. “Threats aren’t always the best way, you know. And the desk stays. Or are you going to drug me too?” 

Crawford just smirked, “I want the desk as a place for Aya-chan to hide under. “Terror is going to open fire on the house, and the desk is lined with sheet steel.” He shrugged, “Unless you want her to be shot.” 

Farfarello hopped down off the horse, giving the grey animal a pat on the shoulder as he walked toward the house, but whether it was Brad’s threat or Aya’s final promise that had motivated him was anyone’s guess. 

Aya sighed in defeat. It was a good reason and Crawford knew it. “Okay,” he said without further argument. “Is everyone else ready?” 

Ken, who’d come in while the others were discussing the desk said, “No we aren’t. Has anyone seen Zeshin?” 

Aya frowned as he realised that he hadn’t seen Zeshin since training the previous day. “Isn’t he in his room?” 

“If he is,” Kai said, “he’s not answering the door.” 

“Okay, I’ll go up and try. Can the rest of you get sorted out. Dump your stuff on the desk and form a circle round it.” 

“I looked, he’s not there.” Ken frowned, “His clothes are gone too.” 

Crawford motioned to Schuldig, “Find him if you please and have him get his ass down here immediately.” 

“You heard Ken, Vater. He’s not upstairs. Anyone got any idea where he might have gone?” 

Aya stilled as if he were on a mission. “To find Cole Randall perhaps?” he suggested. 

Behind him his sister gasped and put a hand to her mouth. 

Crawford took a seat at his desk and considered Aya’s words. “Considering the events of the past two days,” he fixed his gaze on Aya-chan, “I would say that is a very good bet.” 

Aya pushed his way to the door. “You know, of course, that he doesn’t stand a chance alone,” he said as he went. 

“Zeshin is part of Schwarz. Never underestimate the changes that’s made in him. 

“Or that you’ve wrought, for that matter, Abyssinian.” 

Aya turned at the door, staring coldly at Crawford. “He’s facing a man who can disappear like a puff of smoke. I’d balk at that.” 

“What makes you think Zeshin plans to fight fair? Even the Phantom Gun might have a problem with being attacked unexpectedly,” Brad countered. 

Yohji sighed and pulled on his gloves, “I’m going with you.” 

“So am I,” Ken added. 

“Count me in,” said Schuldig. 

Nagi and Kai exchanged a look. “Doesn’t matter what the local preachers think after today,” Nagi said slyly. Kai merely grinned. 

“Go take care of it and get back here quickly. Farfarello and I will stay here with Aya-chan and keep her company,” Brad said. 

Nobody needed further bidding and they were out of the door and on the street in short order. Once outside they spread out to search for Zeshin and Randall if that’s where the boy had gone. 

Zeshin was watching the tall dark-haired man as he walked along the boardwalk in front of the saloon. 

Cole had been drinking, but not enough to be truly drunk. Relaxed, yes, but not drunk. 

When he noticed the pale haired boy he paused, not from fear, but more from puzzlement. He didn’t think the boy meant him any harm, and he was hardly afraid of the kid, but if he’d learned anything in his life it was not to take anyone or anything at face value. 

And if the boy ran with that crowd of Crawford’s chances were he’d be just as dangerous as the red-haired man with the strange violet eyes. 

As if conjured by Cole’s thoughts, Aya’s voice rang out the single word. “Singapura!” 

He was standing further up the street and was dressed strangely. The yellow duster coat was still there but underneath it he was wearing a strange sleeveless cotton top and tight pants in soft black leather. “Time to go,” he said. 

Cole turned at the sound of the deep voice of Aya-chan’s brother. What had she called him? Ran, that was it. 

Deciding it wasn’t any of his business he started down the street when he came to the conclusion that the red-haired man hadn’t come for him over the girl. 

Zeshin shook his head, “I’m not going back, Abyssinian.” 

Aya shook his head. “If you’re determined to leave us, I can’t stop you. But you can’t stay here. It’s not your time.” 

He watched as Randall walked away, letting the man go despite what his sister had told him. She was safe from him now. 

“I’m not going, Abyssinian.” 

“You’re going if I have to drag you screaming. I’m in no mood to piss about so get moving.” 

The boy stayed where he was for the span of a few seconds, then his shoulders drooped, his head lowered and he meekly headed back toward the house, unable to defy Aya’s direct order. 

The tampering that Schuldig had done with Zeshin’s mind assured that he would never be able to disobey anything Aya demanded of him. 

*Schuldig, let everyone know I’ve found him and he’s coming back, please.* 

*No problem, Aya.* 

He waited for Zeshin to come abreast of him. “What’s going on, Zen?” 

“Nothing, Fujimiya-san,” he replied, head bowed, heading for the house without another word. 

As long as he was with them it would always be the same no matter what Abyssinian said. He would always belong to the older man, forced to obey, unable to resist like any pet. Like any animal with a master. 

Aya sighed. There was something on Singapura’s mind but it would have to wait until after they’d gone back and dealt with Terror. 

He followed the younger man back to the house. 

Zeshin entered Brad’s study and sat down on the floor in a corner, out of everyone’s way as the rest of them trailed in. 

Brad was seated at his desk, which was piled high with their belongings. He looked up as his team came back into the room, “Well if we’re all done wasting time--“ he actually smirked, “which all things considered hardly matters-- I’d like to get this over with. Unlike the rest of you, I happen to have plans for the remainder of the day after we’ve dealt with Terror.” 

Yohji snorted, “I’ve got plans too,” the blond replied. 

“Shopping or sleeping, Kudoh?” Ken asked. 

Yohji grinned, “Both.” 

Farfarello was standing beside the window, looking at Cloudy, his expression decidedly gloomy. 

Schuldig crossed the room and put a comforting arm round his lover’s shoulders. *Aya made you a promise. He won’t break it.* 

“Okay everyone, make a circle round the desk,” Aya said, shooting a really evil look at Brad as he spoke the last word. “Yohji, next to me and please remember what I said. I’ll take what I need. We don’t need you unconscious at the other end.” 

Crawford guided Aya-chan under his desk, snapped his fingers at Zeshin and directed the boy under there with her. “Keep her safe, if you please,” he ordered. “Hold hands, Zeshin, grab my ankle so the two of you aren’t left behind.” 

Zeshin didn’t look at her as he crawled under the desk, his gaze on the floor as he nodded his acceptance of the American’s order, one hand gripping Aya-chan’s hand, the other wrapping around Brad’s leg. 

Ken clasped Nagi’s hand, gave his lover a quick kiss, and then took Yohji’s free hand in his. 

Farfarello joined the circle and took Nagi’s hand and reached for Schuldig. 

Schuldig reached for Kai’s hand and found he was on his knees, one hand reaching up to clasp his, the other reaching down to complete the circle by holding Aya-chan’s free hand. It effectively kept her under the desk but also meant he could spring to his feet as soon as they arrived. 

Aya took Brad’s hand in his and took a deep breath. “Okay everyone, let’s go home,” he said. Then he took them forward. 

Existence rippled, fragmented and flew apart in a million directions. Reformed to be hit by a wave of panic, pure animal terror that reached down into their psyches and tried to turn their minds inside out. 

“SURRENDER!” a voice roared from outside, the sound hitting them with the force of a sledgehammer, another spike of nightmarish terror striking at them. “SURRENDER OR DIE!” 

Brad swayed on his feet, hand going to the desk to steady him as time stretched outward in a brittle ribbon. 

“Do it,” he told his team as he struggled to regain his own psychic equilibrium. “Show them why no one threatens Schwarz.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote from Book 1 and title of this fiction comes from "Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night" by Dylan Thomas.
> 
> You may have noticed that the title of every chapter in this installment of the series is also the title of a song.


End file.
